Never Too Late
by Breea
Summary: A girl torn between two brothers, a rebellion intent on destroying Winterfell, lives of all the Starks hanging in the balance; this story is about more than romance and coming of age, it's about fighting for what you believe in. AU-Robb/OC/Jon
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer/Author's Note:** I have not read the books yet. I have seen the first 6 episodes of the show at this point. I am absolutely in love with this show, Kit Harington and Richard Madden (not to mention my love for all things Sean Bean). This story has nothing to do with the show for the most part, though Jon might end up wanting to join the Night's Watch. Basically, I've taken the characters and done what I want with them so it's mostly AU.

**Never Too Late**

Chapter 1

The sun was heavy in the west, just barely visible above the trees. Two forms danced by the river, the clang of steel against steel ringing out with each contact. It was a duel and it was a vigorous one. Both were looking for a weakness, for an opening; for the other to fail. They were strong opponents and this was not their first duel. A thrust here, a parry there, a lean and a kick. The two were in a heated, deadly tango.

The sound of hoof beats approaching fast didn't faze them. They continued, even as their friend shouted their names. Robb Stark jumped off his horse before it halted and insisted they stop. "Father is coming." He added forcefully.

The ringing of steel stopped immediately as the two looked to Robb simultaneously. In a flurry of motion that had swords hidden, a blanket thrown to the ground, books open, and a picnic basket on display, the three friends arranged themselves as though they had been sitting reading and eating all afternoon. Robb forced a laugh just as his father appeared in the clearing.

Eddard Stark was a formidable sight. Tall, even in his saddle, he was an imposing man unless you knew his true nature. Honorable and mighty, Lord Stark was also a kind and just man. With him was the captain of his guard, Jory Cassel. The two men stared warily at the three friends.

"Hello, father." Jon Snow nodded his acknowledgement toward Lord Stark, his father. "What brings you out to the river on such a fine day?"

Eddard smiled unconvincingly at his sons. "Checking up on you." He answered honestly. He eyed his two boys before resting his eyes on their third companion.

"Lord Stark, how kind of you to be concerned about our wellbeing." Delylah Cassel, Jory's eldest daughter, returned Eddard's smile. "We've just been studying and having a brief lunch."

"Out in the woods, Lylah? Really?" Her father raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Not sure why you three come all the way out here to study."

"Don't you trust us, father?" Robb asked, feigning a hurt expression.

"No." Lord Stark's reply was a single, harsh syllable.

The three friends could only chuckle at that reply. There were probably the three most untrustworthy kids when they were out together; Eddard would have to be a fool not to suspect them up to no good.

"I promise, there is nothing going on to concern yourself with." Jon assured his father best he could. "Just studying."

"And eating." Lylah added, holding up a sandwich she had grabbed from the basket.

Lord Stark and his captain looked less than persuaded but couldn't do more than nod in compliance. "Back to the keep before nightfall." Eddard commanded. The three nodded their agreement. Reluctantly, the two men turned their horses and headed back toward home.

When they were out of earshot Delylah flopped down backward on the blanket, sighing with relief. "Close one." She whispered.

"Not sure why we have to hide this." Jon dropped his book and began digging through the basket for dessert. Pulling out a cookie he grinned at his find before looking back to his two friends. "We train together every day in the keep."

"Father thinks we'll hurt ourselves without supervision." Robb reminded him. He grabbed the sandwich from Delylah before she could take a bite and stuffed the whole half into his mouth. Chewing slowly he grinned at her as she punched him in the shoulder.

"He treats us like children." Jon shook his head, picking pieces off his cookie and eating it slowly. "We're not anymore."

"You're always children in your father's eyes." Delylah stopped beating on Robb long enough to answer Jon's musings. "Even when you're thirty you'll always be a child to him."

"Maybe you'll always be 'daddy's little girl' but we actually are going to have to be men. I don't think father sees us as kids. He just has no reason to trust us when we're together." Robb amended Delylah's comments. "There's a difference."

"Either way," Lylah shrugged. "I don't know what the problem is about practicing away from Winterfell Keep but I don't want to get caught. I've had enough whippings on account of you two." She pointed at both boys in turn.

"Same." Robb grabbed her finger when it pointed at him. "We just have to be more careful."

"Or have a better watchman." Jon threw the last crumbs of his cookie at Robb.

"Who was winning?" Robb asked, throwing the crumbs back at his brother.

Jon and Delylah's eyes met, challenge brewing just beneath their gazes. "I was." They replied in unison. All three fell into a fit of laughter. "Rematch, then." Jon offered.

"Accepted." Delylah grinned.

"I call winner." Robb stood and began gathering the remnants of their sort of picnic. Delylah began helping as Jon went off to gather their swords. With the sun sinking rapidly the cold was gathering around them quickly. "Let's get back. I don't like the woods after dark." Robb looked toward the horizon with a small frown. The forest was eerily silent and the shadows were growing long.

Climbing on her horse, Delylah looked over at her two best friends climbing on their own mounts. "Race you." She offered, taking off before they could respond.

"Damn girl." Robb growled, taking off after her. Robb hated to lose. Jon chuckled to himself before taking off after them. Even making their way back to the keep had to be a competition.

* * *

><p>"Jackass." Delylah mumbled under her breath rubbing the back of her head where it had just met the ground. Robb was standing over her, grinning wildly but offering her a hand to help her up. He had just executed a move that had knocked her feet out from under her and landed her on her backside. Though her pride was wounded she had to admit the move had been flawless.<p>

"Lylah! Up!" Her father called from across the sparring arena.

Delylah looked at Robb's proffered hand and thought about slapping it away. Instead she grabbed it and allowed him to help her to her feet. "The only way to get out of it is a pivot with a low parry. Nothing else can stop it." Robb whispered in her ear when she was on her feet. "Timing has to be perfect, though." He added with a twinkle in his eye.

"Again!" Jory shouted before turning back to Jon. Jory was helping Jon with his form with a two handed blade; the three kids had grown up learning one handed swords with shields and bows; two handed swords weren't in the usual regiment. Jon had asked Jory to help him with his technique a few weeks ago which left Robb and Delylah sparring partners.

"So," Robb started the conversation while taking a slow swipe at her left side. "What are we going to do for Jon's eighteenth name day?"

Delylah easily parried the move and countered with an easy swing of her own. Their concentration was on the discussion, not the sword play. "Is your mother going to allow for a gathering?" She feinted left then struck right.

Robb, used to her techniques, ignored the feint and easily hit her sword away. He half attempted a kick at her side which would have impacted if she hadn't been anticipating the move. She pushed his foot away with her hand. He shrugged as he regained his footing. "Probably not. But it doesn't mean we shouldn't celebrate somehow. It's Jon."

With a half spin, Delylah swung her sword with the weight of her body and momentum in it. She was slow, however, and Robb knocked her sword from her hand then held his sword's point to her belly. It had been a half-assed spar but Robb still won. Typical. Delylah held her hands up in surrender. "I'll have Bess bake a cake. See if Bran and Arya want to get him something. The five of us can go down by the river or something. It doesn't have to be extravagant; it just has to be special."

Robb lowered his sword and looked over to where Jory was helping Jon. "Yea, he wouldn't like extravagant, would he?"

"What about you? Are you looking forward to your mother's gathering she's planning for your day?" Delylah went over and picked up her blade.

Robb rolled his eyes. "Don't remind me. Ladies from all over are coming. Mother wants me to 'court' the ones I like." He made a face. "I've yet to meet one I like."

Delylah giggled, approaching him. "I seem to recall a Lady Eadie that you seemed to fancy quite a bit."

Robb blushed, the tips of his cheeks and ears tingeing bright red. "That was just a kiss. And you two ruined it!"

"We did you a favor." Delylah smiled, shaking her head. "She was too demanding and needy for you. You need someone who can speak her mind but obey you as a wife. Strong but sweet. Someone who will treat you right and not walk all over you. Eadie is not that person."

"You have my wife picked out for me?" Robb nudged her, bright blue eyes twinkling in the sunlight.

"Not yet but I will. You should let me pick your wife for you. Otherwise you'll be miserable the rest of your days."

"Lylah knows best."

"Girls know other girls. I'll know if a girl is genuine or not. I bet I could pick you a perfect wife."

"Too bad it's not up to you." Robb sighed.

"Ladies!" Jory called from across the way. "Did my arena turn into a sewing room or is this where we practice how to be men? Spar! No more talking!"

"I think your father just called you a man." Robb knit his brows together in mock concern as he readied for the next round.

"I've been called worse." Delylah replied, readying her stance as well. "Now shut up and fight me."

**A/N**: Review make the world go 'round. Thanks!


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Delylah sat cross legged in front of the fireplace in Jon Snow's chamber. Ghost lay with his head in her lap as she stroked his fur gently. The direwolf laid on his back, snoring quietly; he had fallen asleep in the cozy position. Delylah hardly noticed. She was mesmerized by the flames dancing merrily in front of her. The fire was newly made so it was bright and lively. It was easy to lose yourself in your own memories and thoughts while staring into a large fire. She was busy replaying her favorite childhood events in her mind while sitting there, waiting for Jon to return.

It was Robb's eighteenth birthday and the feast that was being held in his honor was in full swing in the main hall. Lady Stark requested that the attendees be only nobles invited from lands near and far. Delylah knew Catelyn Stark had her own agenda by demanding such things. She didn't want Jon or Delylah around for tonight's festivities.

Delylah didn't really blame Lady Stark for her excluding her. A girl best friend to the next Stark in line to be Lord of Winterfell was not something that would be considered popular. Most ladies did not want to compete with girl best friends. Delylah would rather not dress up anyhow; she hated getting fancy for gatherings.

She was more upset for Jon; he had wanted to help his brother celebrate his name day. He was constantly excluded from things because of Lady Stark and Lylah knew he felt each slight like a knife to the abdomen. She wished he wouldn't take it to heart but that was Jon Snow; everything, good or bad, was taken to heart, felt one hundred percent. It made him compassionate but it also made him conflicted and angry.

Currently, she was waiting for him to return to his room; she had snuck up to talk with him during the feast knowing he would be upset he wasn't invited. They had spoke for a while, reminiscing about childhood antics when they both decided they were starving. Jon decided he could be the stealthiest so he stole down to the gathering to try and poach some food, especially birthday cake. He was taking longer than anticipated and she was getting antsy.

The door snicked open and shut behind her, waking Ghost and causing her to turn sharply. Jon was back with two small plates of food and two big plates of cake. Her eyes lit up at the sight and she stood quickly, dumping Ghost out of her lap. "That looks divine."

Jon looked rather pleased with himself. The two sat on the floor across from one another and began digging in; Jon paused long enough to toss a chicken drumstick over to Ghost. "See, now this is way better. We don't have to deal with silly clothes and sillier girls. We can still enjoy the food without all the fuss." Delylah smiled at Jon over her piece of chicken.

Jon smiled but it didn't reach his eyes. Not being invited had impacted him harder than she anticipated. She wasn't exactly sure why Jon wanted to be a 'Stark' so badly. By all accounts, minus Lady Stark's, he was one. Born of a different mother, he was technically a bastard but hated being thought of as such. He wanted more than anything else in the world to belong. Delylah wasn't quite sure why he didn't realize he did belong; everyone loved him, including his father. Why the disapproval of one woman was so damning to him was incomprehensible to her.

In the years of being friends she had found the best course of action to turn his mood back around was to distract him. Jon could be broody but he could just as easily be jovial and fun. It just took the right words and direction of conversation to pull him out of his self pity. "Did you hear about Arya today?" Delylah prompted between bites.

Jon's ears perked up. As much as he wasn't considered a Stark, he considered the Stark children his siblings. He loved them and treated them all as brothers and sisters, even though they were only half his blood kin. Arya was the sister he was most fond of, relating to her and her sense of being an outsider. As much as Jon wished he was a full blooded Stark Arya wished she was a boy.

It was different than Delylah. Delylah was raised as a girl but allowed to do 'boy' things. She was born the same year as Robb and Jon and raised in the same household. As babies and children they played together. Her father being the Captain of the Guard and her uncle being the Master at Arms of Winterfell, it was only natural for her to learn to use a sword so she trained with the boys. Friends ever since, she was considered a 'tomboy', preferring swordplay to needle point or horseback riding to piano lessons. Still, she was a girly girl at heart and wanted nothing more than to find a suitable husband one day and have a family of her own. She had no ambitions of being a knight or a ruler of a kingdom.

Arya, on the other hand, was a tomboy with a mission. She was out to become a King's knight, if not King herself. Arya wanted to be a boy in the worst way; more than just swordplay and archery- she wanted to be treated as an equal. She had no desire for a family or to be a wife to a lord. Give her combat and action and she would be happy. The concept was none too popular around the Stark household.

"What did she do?" Jon asked, shaking his head in anticipation of being amused or disappointed in his little sister.

"Her pet snake got loose." Delylah looked at him pointedly. "In Septa's chambers. She found it curled in the bottom of her bed, making itself right at home." Septa was the girls' governess.

Jon rolled his eyes but couldn't suppress his laugh. "I can't believe I missed the look on Septa's face!" He chuckled again, picturing the woman's expression. "So I take it Arya was caught? She probably got a tanned hide."

"You know Arya. She talked her way out of a good lashing and received no more than a slap on the wrist. How that girl negotiates with adults is beyond me." Delylah sighed. "I envy her."

"Too bad we didn't have her talents when we released the frogs in Old Nan's room." Jon shoveled the last of his piece of cake in his mouth. "I still feel the burn from that beating."

"Not that we didn't deserve it." Robb entered Jon's room, interrupting whatever it was Delylah was going to say. "That was a bit of a nasty prank."

"It did take a while for her to rid her room of them. She was still finding them hopping about weeks later." Delylah grinned at the memory. "We were kids; we didn't know any better."

"We knew better." Robb settled himself in between Jon and Delylah. They were all three sitting cross legged, their knees forming a circle. "We just didn't care."

"What are you doing here?" Jon frowned at his half brother. "Your birthday celebration is going on downstairs. I think you might be missed at your own party."

Robb waved him off, making an unpleasant face. "That party is boring. It's all proper manners, uptight girls and boys with no sense of humor. I miss you guys." He looked at both of them in turn. "You've ruined me, you know. I can't be around nobles without being bored to tears."

"So you've snuck away from your own gathering to hang with us in Jon's room?" Delylah couldn't hide her delighted yet amused smile. "Your mother will not be happy. You're supposed to be searching for a wife."

Robb made another face. He reached over and stole Delylah's last bite of cake. "I thought that was your job? Didn't you offer to find me a suitable wife?" He raised an eyebrow at her.

Since it was his name day, Delylah decided to let the cake stealing pass. She folded her arms across her chest and pursed her lips in mock annoyance. "I can't find you a wife from up here. Lady Stark doesn't want me at your gathering. So no wife for you tonight, Lord Robb, unless you pick one yourself."

"Wait, you offered to find Robb a wife?" Jon's black eyes sparkled with amusement as he looked from one friend to the other. "And you told her you'd let her choose? Are you mad?"

Delylah reached over and playfully punched Jon in the arm while Robb chuckled. "It'll be easier than choosing on my own. I don't see how I could ever get married, though. Haven't met a noble woman yet that was concerned with anything more than how pretty she is. Topic of conversation is always about her hair or herr wardrobe. It's all I could do to stay awake down there."

"Robb!" An angry sounding Eddard Stark was shouting down the hallway; they could hear his heavy footsteps approaching.

"I don't think you're supposed to be in here." Jon looked over at Delylah, worry written all over his face.

"I don't think you are either." She gave Robb a little shove toward the door. "Meet him in the hallway and go back to your party. Try to pretend to have fun. You're mother will be devastated if you don't."

Robb opened Jon's chamber door and Delylah slid behind it the same moment Ned Stark filled the doorway. "What are you doing?" Lord Stark demanded.

"Checking on Jon. I wanted to apologize for him being unable to attend the gathering. I wanted him to come." Robb looked down at his feet. "Sorry to worry you. I didn't realize I'd been gone long."

Eddard's voice softened substantially as he replied. "That was kind of you, Robb. You're mother is getting impatient, however. We must head back to the party." There was a pause. "Sorry, Jon."

Jon gave one of his smiles; it was a crooked grin that he used to disguise disappointment. It also usually meant he was about to lie. "It's okay, father."

Eddard nodded and set his arm around Robb, leading him from the room. Jon closed the door behind them and looked over at a very still Delylah. "That was close." He meandered over toward his bed and sunk down slowly to sit. He was lost in his thoughts again, probably upset that he wasn't allowed to attend his brother's party. His ability to brood was astounding.

Delylah walked over and sat next to him. "I can't say anything I haven't said before, Jon. I wish you wouldn't take it to heart, how she treats you. She's one person. You need to look at the rest of us, how we love and respect you. One person shouldn't dictate your life."

"But she does." Jon cut her off forcefully. He glared at her but she knew his anger wasn't directed at her. Jon Snow was mad at life in general. "She reminds me every day that I don't belong."

Delylah grabbed his hands with hers, forcing him to face her. "Don't say that. You belong here, with Robb and I. What would we do without you? Just because she directs her anger at Ned toward you doesn't mean you don't belong." Delylah knew where this conversation inevitably led and she wasn't willing to go there tonight. When Jon got upset at Lady Stark all he wanted to do was get as far away as possible. Sometimes he talked about joining the Night's Watch, sometimes he talked about going across the Narrow Sea. Wherever he went in these proposed scenarios he went on his own. Delylah hated to think he would leave them. "We need you, Jon." She reminded him softly.

He pressed his lips together in a thin line as he stared at her. Inner conflict and turmoil raged behind his eyes for a few moments. Then, like a candle being snuffed, he calmed down, his whole body relaxing. "I know." He replied, pulling his hands from hers. "The two of you wouldn't be able to behave properly without me around to keep you in line."

"Exactly. You're our conscience." Delylah grinned mischievously. Both friends knew that all three of them were to blame for each and every wicked thing they had ever done. True, Jon was usually the first to confess because he always felt the most guilt, but his responsibility for their pranks was equal in part.

"Fine, I won't leave tonight." This was what he always said after one of their 'talks.' "But maybe tomorrow. You've kept me for at least another day." He flopped over onto the mattress. "Now you need to go before we get in trouble. G'night, Lylah."

"Night, Jon. Thanks for the dinner." Delylah stood, gave Ghost a kiss between the eyes, and slipped silently from Jon Snow's room. She was would never admit it to anyone but she was worried that someday Jon wouldn't say those words at the end of a conversation. She worried that someday, Jon would leave them.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Would you stop complaining and try to keep up?" Delylah sighed with exasperation, pausing to look back over her shoulder at a reluctant Jon Snow. His curls were getting to be too long and his hair hung in his eyes messily. She was going to have to convince to get a trim when they got back to the keep. For now, however, she needed him to stop lollygagging around and keep up with her.

"I thought we had riding lessons today. You know, with archery. With your father. I was looking forward to that." Jon's voice was on the verge of being whiney. He picked his way slowly through the brush with a scowl.

"You are the biggest child I have ever met." Delylah rolled her eyes. She turned on her heel and kept going, heading toward their clearing near the river. It was their 'sacred' spot; the three of them spent a lot of time out in the woods and near the river. As they got older and their responsibilities grew they spent less and less time out there playing but they still enjoyed going to their spot to talk or relax. It was a sanctuary away from duty and adults. Delylah wasn't sure why Jon was so against going today.

Jon answered her unspoken question. "It's just that Bran was going to join in today. I wanted to be there to encourage him. He gets so down on himself when he's not perfect. He doesn't realize he's so young."

Delylah stopped mid step. She turned to look at her friend with curiosity. He stopped as well and returned her stare. "What?" He asked after a moment, looking uncomfortable under her gaze.

"You just surprise me, is all." Delylah admitted. "Such a good heart but such a ill-tempered attitude. I don't know what to make of you half the time."

He made a face at her and gave her a playful shove to the side as he walked past her. With a smile she followed him. "I am not ill-tempered." He growled quietly so she could barely hear. She giggled in response but said nothing.

Jon stopped short at the clearing. Delylah had not been paying attention; she had been following him on auto-pilot. She ran into the back of him he stopped so quickly. She peered over his shoulder with a delighted smirk, taking in the same scene as he.

There was their picnic blanket and picnic basket in the clearing. A large cake with three lit candles atop it graced the middle of the blanket. Sitting on one side was a grinning Robb, sitting on the other side was an ecstatic Bran and Arya. The two younger ones jumped up at the sight of Jon and ran over and threw their arms around him. "Happy eighteenth name day, Jon!" Arya squealed with glee.

Jon looked back over his shoulder at Delylah's playful grin. "You knew about this?" He asked, a bit of awe in his voice.

Delylah shrugged but Robb answered for her. "It was her idea." He walked over and gave his brother a respectful slap on the back. "Welcome to adulthood, little brother."

"Blow out the candles before the wax melts on the cake." Arya insisted, dragging Jon over toward the blanket by the hand. Jon allowed himself to be pulled by her. "Don't forget to make your wish, though."

Jon knelt by the cake. He closed his eyes and paused, then leaned over and blew out the candles. The children clapped happily; Arya was already pulling out a knife to cut it with. The five of them enjoyed huge pieces of the cake while Arya and Bran took turns chatting excitedly about one thing or another. The afternoon was full of laughter, conversation, and food; not one of the five could complain about the time spent together.

Before they packed up to head back to Winterfell Keep, Bran insisted on giving Jon his presents. The first was from the younger boy, a carved, wooden statuette of a ranger with a sword. "He's a Night Watchman. See his black clothes?" Bran was proud of his creation.

"Did you carve this yourself?" Jon asked in wonderment. Bran nodded eagerly. "It looks just like Uncle Benjen." Jon chuckled, stowing it in his leather pouch for safe keeping. "Thank you, Bran."

"My turn!" Arya sing-songed, jumping up and handing a lumpy, wrapped package to Jon. He ripped off the paper to find a misshapen but beautifully painted bowl. He looked at it with uncertainty. Arya was undeterred. "I went to the pottery maker in town and he helped me make it. I know it's not perfect but I did paint it blue, your favorite color." She beamed with pride.

Jon smiled and hugged his younger sister. "It's perfect to me," he told her, hugging the bowl close. "Thank you, Arya." Delylah could swear she saw tears in Jon's eyes as he looked at his half siblings but before she could be sure Robb stepped forward.

"You're not done yet." Robb had his hands behind his back.

"Really, you've all done more than enough. I don't need any more-"

"Stop being humble and let me speak." Robb cut him off. "Father would want to do this for you but mother would never let him. So I've taken it upon myself to commission you this," he pulled a sheathed sword from behind his back and presented it to Jon. "A sword worthy of a Stark."

"I'm not a Stark-" Jon's automatic response was past his lips before he could stop it.

"You are." Robb interrupted him again. "And this was made special for you. Mikken made it to your stance, build, and fighting style. No one can wield it better than you." He handed Jon the sword adding, "Happy birthday, little brother."

Jon took the sword, looking upon it with reverence. He pulled it from its sheath and stood, testing the weight. The two children looked on in admiration as he backed away from them and began practice swings to assess its balance. Delylah chewed on her thumbnail as she watched him. It seemed like an extension of his arm and he used it with ease. The sword was perfect. She sent a grin toward Robb who returned it with enthusiasm.

"I don't know what to say." Jon finished trying the sword out and walked back toward the group. His expression was somewhere between happiness, shock, and guilt. "You all are amazing. I don't know how to thank you."

"What did you get him, Lylah?" Bran asked, looking over at her.

"Bran, she didn't have to get me anything-" Jon's voice was a warning.

"No, it's okay." Delylah smiled. "I got the five of us together and I had the cook bake the cake and prepare us our lunch. It's not a thing he can touch, but it's something he'll remember." Bran looked confused but Arya grinned, understanding. Robb and Jon nodded their agreement.

A large drop of water fell on Arya's head just then, breaking the small moment they were having. All five heads turned up toward the sky. "Where'd that cloud come from?" Bran asked bitterly. A few more cold drops fell.

"Great, rain." Robb griped, quickly gathering up the remains of their private party. "Let's get back before we're soaked and mother complains that you two caught pneumonia."

Each with a few things in their hands, the five ran back toward the keep. The clouds opened up and rain poured out of the sky in an angry torrent, drenching them before they could get in the shelter of Winterfell. The children screamed, a cross between surprise and delight at being soaked instantly. They charged into the castle, Robb right behind them. Delylah grabbed Jon's arm before he could follow them. She crooked a finger at him, biding him to follow her.

They walked through the rain to an alcove in the wall of the castle. The rain couldn't reach them there but it was too late, they were already sopping wet. She turned to face him, her breath catching in her throat at the sight of him so close. The flutters in her stomach felt surprising to her. She was used to being near Jon her whole life, why was she suddenly nervous? She found herself staring dumbly into his eyes, her voice lost.

He looked perplexed. "Yes?" He asked, wanting to know why she dragged him over here instead of letting him go into the warmth of the castle.

Oh yes, her reason. She snapped out of the semi-trance she had fallen into with a blink. Never mind the warmth she could feel radiating off of him merely inches away, she had a purpose she needed to focus on. _Focus, Lylah, focus_, she reminded herself.

"I actually did get you something. I didn't want to give it to you in front of the others." She gave him a faint smile.

"Why not?"

She shrugged. "I was embarrassed. I can't believe I'm giving it too you now. It's stupid."

She moved to take a step back from him but he grabbed her arm to keep her close. "What is it?" He asked, brows raised as he insisted.

"It's dumb. You'll laugh." She was getting cold feet.

"I promise I won't." He looked sincere.

She hesitated. She had thought this present was a good idea at first but now she was second guessing herself. In the moment it was a seemingly childish and silly present. She should have left well enough alone when he thought the picnic was her present to him. Now she was on a course and she couldn't steer her way out of it. She had to give it to him.

"Um, my mother, well," Delylah stumbled over her words, trying to find the exact ones she wanted to use that wouldn't make her look like a fool. "She's been trying to get me to do 'girl' things," she rolled her eyes at that statement but Jon kept staring at her intently. "So, anyway, in my spare time when I'm not with you and Robb she has me learning piano and sewing and even cooking. It's dreadful." It wasn't really. It wasn't her favorite thing to do but she didn't mind sewing or cooking too much. She could live happily without ever touching another piano, however.

Amusement lit up Jon's eyes. "You? Piano and cooking?" He shook his head in disbelief. "I'll believe it when I see it."

She glowered at him before taking a deep breath. "Do you want your present or not?"

He let go of her arm and held out his hand. "I want."

Delylah sighed and dug around in the pocket of her cloak. "You're infuriating, you know that?" She complained. She dropped a piece of white cloth in his hand with a scowl. She was using anger to cover up her embarrassment at the gift. "I made that for you. It's silly, I know. Just, don't say anything to anyone."

Jon looked at the cloth in his hand. It was a simple handkerchief, the kind knights and lords carried around with them. JS, his initials, were embroidered with shades of blue and gray intertwined with pale snowflakes. A little white wolf with red eyes sat next to the letters. It was by no means a masterful work of art but you could at least tell what it was. His expression never changed as he stared at it.

He hated it. Delylah knew he was masking the laughter that was just under the surface. It was a stupid, stupid gift and now she was mortified she even made it, much less gave it to him. With a loud, frustrated half-sigh, half-growl, she pushed past him to leave and head back to her home.

She stomped across the courtyard cursing her own lack of intelligence. She didn't even notice the rain still falling heavily all around her. She didn't care. She only wanted to get home, crawl in bed, and forget this mess ever happened. _Foolish child_, she thought to herself. She knew that Robb and Jon considered her a brother and that's how she liked it; being one of the guys. Though she knew it wasn't possible forever, she did want to be friends with them as long as it was allowed. Doing something girly jeopardized how they looked at her. If Jon thought of her as a girl and not a friend, their times together could start to get awkward. She couldn't fight the sinking feeling that she had just ruined a good thing.

Someone grabbed her arm and whirled her around. Instinctively she went to shove the heel of her palm into their throat but her wrist was caught and pushed aside. Despite the heavy rain, Delylah relaxed when she saw who had grabbed her. It was Jon.

"Where are you going?" He asked. She couldn't read the look in his eyes. He seemed oblivious to the fact that they were standing in a torrential downpour.

"Home." She replied simply.

"You didn't let me thank you."

Her eyes automatically dropped to her toes. "You don't have to."

"I'm sorry about the way I reacted. You just surprised me, is all. I like it."

"Don't lie." Her eyes snapped back to his.

"I'm not." He released her wrist but kept a firm grip on her arm like he was afraid she'd walk away again. "Thank you." He insisted.

Delylah wasn't sure if she believed him or not. Before her snappy comeback could make its way out, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers. Her automatic response was to close her eyes and return the kiss, pressing her own lips back on his. Neither had much experience with the opposite sex and the kiss was awkward, but sweet, and all too brief. She felt that flutter in her stomach once again as he stepped back and looked at her with wide-eyed wonderment.

After a pause he stammered, "I didn't mean to-" He was worried he'd upset her.

"No, it's okay, you didn't-" Delylah tried to reassure him.

"I just meant to say thank you-"

"If you apologize, I'll be offended." She put a hand on his chest to stop his rambling. "It's okay, Jon. A little mistake, we can pretend it didn't happen." The words weren't comforting to her own ears but she had to appease him somehow. "You're welcome for the present. Now I have to get home before I freeze to death in this rain."

Jon looked around as though he just noticed it was pouring. He glanced back at her and nodded. "See you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow." She gave him a forced smile before turning and dashing toward her house. She was glad to see a fire lit in her room already; she needed a warm and cheery hearth at that moment. Sliding her back down the door she pulled her knees into herself as she sat, wrapping her arms around them tightly. She had just told Jon that their first kiss had been a mistake. What troubled her about that was that deep down, she knew that was a lie.

**A/N**: Thank you to those who take the time to review!


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The early morning sun was barely high enough in the sky to give light when Delylah rolled out of bed. She had barely slept the night, tossing and turning and unable to quiet her mind. The foremost thought was of how she would act around Jon today. She was supposed to pretend like nothing happened. Both of them were. Would they be able to do it?

There will still drops of rain dripping from the trees, each one a rainbow in the sunlight. Delylah headed toward the sparring arena where she and the boys were to have lessons this afternoon. She was considering getting some early practice in, concentrating on something else so she wouldn't think about Jon any more. Plus, she really wanted to block Robb's new move that kept knocking her on her butt during practice.

She stood up on the first rung of the fence railing that surrounded the arena, leaning her forearms on the top rung. Staring at the ring alone, in the quiet early morning, she was easily pulled into memory. This was where Robb first pulled her ponytail to win an argument when they were eight; where she had been thrown in a mud puddle by Jon because she had called him a name at ten. Over near the sword rack was where Robb, at fourteen was fooling around and nearly cut Jon's arm off; Jon would always have a scar from that. Across the way from that was where Jon and Delylah convinced a little seven year old Robb to eat a worm because it would make him big and strong. So many memories, most of them good.

"You're up early."

Delylah turned, startled at the voice breaking the silence. The corners of her mouth turned up into a wry smile. "You too." She pointed out as Robb joined her on the fence railing. "Couldn't sleep?"

Robb shook his head, his eyes scanning the arena. "No, I kept having nightmares about the girls from my party. In my dream my mother chose one for me and the girl was shrill and awful." He shuddered at the memory. "I think it was that Frey girl." He paused before looking over at her. "You?"

Delylah hesitated, feeling her cheeks warm as she thought about the reason she couldn't sleep. She didn't want to tell Robb about what happened last night; it would just drag him into the whole awkward mess. She turned away from him, hoping he didn't see her blush. "Just up early. I slept okay," she lied.

They stood on the fence in silence for a few moments. That was one thing that Delylah had always appreciated about Robb; there didn't _have_ to be conversation with him. He knew how to enjoy silent, watchful moments just as much as a delectable dialogue. The stillness in the air was unbroken and it was good.

"Jon's still sleeping." Robb pointed out after a long while.

"I assume that's why he isn't here." Delylah agreed.

"No. I mean, yes, but that's not what I meant." Robb looked down at her, a challenge brewing in his mischievous gaze. "You, and me…."

Delylah turned her eyes to the sky in exasperation as she realized what he was implying. With Robb, everything was a competition. Jon and Delylah indulged him most of the time but it was frustrating because he usually won. Robb was excellent at pretty much whatever he wanted to do.

The competition between he and Jon was archery. They kept tallies of who had the most lifetime bull's-eye shots on the practice field. So far Jon was winning but only just. Sometimes Robb pulled ahead, other times Jon won back the title. Either way, it was always a fierce rivalry when bows were drawn.

Between Robb and Delylah it was the race of who was the fastest to the river or back from the river. They didn't do it every time they went; when Jon was around they didn't want to leave him behind. Sometimes, however, they just couldn't help themselves and they had to run to see who was first. So far, Robb was the reigning champ. Delylah had only been ahead once and that had been around age twelve. But she gave him a good run for his money; he was never too far ahead on wins.

"It's muddy. One of us'll twist an ankle." Delylah was already hopping off the fence, knowing her protests weren't going to do her any good.

"You're scared then?" Robb asked, also stepping off the fence.

She folded her arms across her chest. "You know I'm not."

"Then what's the problem? Are you ready?" He was tensing his muscles, getting ready to sprint.

"Now be fair, Robb." She held a hand up to him so she could get in position. "No cheating."

He pretended to look wounded. "Lylah, you think I'm dishonorable? I don't cheat."

She made a face at him but didn't call him on it. "Whatever, just say when." She kept her eyes on him, waiting for his signal to go. After a pause he grinned.

"When."

And they were off. Mud flew, branches were broken, shrubs were stepped on, and logs were leaped. The two raced to the river as fast as they could. As fast as they could meant there was no grace in their steps and by the time they reached the river they were both a grimy, dirty mess. They flopped down in the mud to catch their breath, both laughing best they could despite the exertion.

"I won again." Robb finally managed to say.

"I have to call that a tie." Delylah disagreed.

"I was distinctly here at least three steps before you."

"Unfair advantage of your long legs. We still entered the clearing at the same time."

"I was at least a second ahead of you."

"You want to fight?" Delylah rolled to her feet and put up her fists in a show of wanting to punch him. Both friends were grinning ear to ear.

"I yield, I yield!" Robb held up his hands to show his surrender. "I'll say it was a tie." Before she could smile smugly he added. "I'm still the champion."

She pushed him back down from where he was trying to get up. She noticed a piece of parchment by where he lay. She snatched it up before he noticed it fell. He looked at the place she picked it up from then to the paper in her hand, his expression worried.

"What do we have here?" Delylah held it just out of his reach from the ground. "Is this a letter?"

"It's mine, give it back." Robb was serious now. Delylah didn't care. This could be something fun to tease him about. It was always good to find dirt on Robb; he was way too perfect most of the time and impossible to taunt.

"Dearest Robb," Delylah read aloud from the letter. She skimmed it quickly before sliding her eyes back at her friend. "It seems you have an admirer."

Robb stood and reached for the letter but Delylah pulled her arm back out of his reach. He looked at her pointedly and went to reach for it again; she held it away. "I'm interested now, Robb Stark. Why do you have this letter? Do you like Lady," she glanced down at the paper to read the name before looking back into his stormy blue eyes. "Jeyne? Is she a candidate for the title of the next Lady Stark?"

"No, actually." Robb reached past her with a fast grab, trying to get the parchment. Delylah quickly switched hands and held the paper behind her back. Robb was leaning in close to her, trying to reach around her and snatch it. "I just hadn't a chance to throw it away yet."

Delylah ducked under his outstretched arms and took a few steps away from him. While he was faster than her, she was a lot tinier and could maneuver quicker than he. It was one of the only reasons she ever won sword plays with either of the boys; the smaller and lighter you were, the quicker you could move around in small areas.

"So, you don't mind if I toss it in the river?" She asked him casually, taking a few steps toward the streaming water. "If you were going to throw it out any way."

Delylah tried not to laugh at look on his face. He seemed torn, trying to look like he didn't care when he so obviously, desperately did. "I would rather you didn't." He took a few steps toward her tentatively.

Coyly, she stopped by the river and held the paper over the rushing water. She had no intention of dropping it; she was simply having some fun with him. Because she had outmaneuvered him moments ago she forgot how swift he could be so when he was suddenly upon her, grabbing for the letter she was startled. Slipping on the muddy bank, his impact knocked her down. In her desperation to gain some balance she instinctively grabbed the nearest object: Robb. He fell on top of her, full weight of his body slamming her into the dirt.

First thing she saw were black stars dancing in her vision. The second thing she noticed was that she still clutched the letter in her hand; she hadn't let it drop. The third, most prominent thing she realized was that Robb's face was only about an inch from hers. All she would have to do was lift her head slightly and their lips would meet. Suddenly somebody let the butterflies go in her stomach again.

He seemed just as surprised as she to be on the ground. He looked at her with concern first. His expression began to change as he realized the same thing as she just had; this was a very compromising position to be in for the two of them. Delylah saw his eyes drop to her lips and she knew where his mind would go next; hers had already been there and back.

She scrambled backward at the same time he pushed himself away from her. "Are you okay?" He managed to ask.

"Yeah," Delylah nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine." She thrust the crumpled parchment out toward him. "Sorry for teasing you. Was just trying to have a little fun." She heard her own voice an octave higher than it usually was. She hoped he didn't notice how nervous she suddenly was. She tried to chuckle but it was weak even to her own ears.

He took the paper from her then sat beside her. "I'm not hanging onto it because I like the girl." He tried to smooth the paper out on his knees as he explained. "I just liked the words. The letter was really well written and I was hoping to hang onto it to maybe use the words for someone else someday."

Delylah frowned but her eyes were lit with amusement. "You were going to steal her words to use on another girl? You can't come up with your own words?"

Robb had the decency to look slightly guilty but he shook his head, confirming her question. "No, not words like this. These are inspiring, if said _by_ the right person, _to_ the right person. I could never write, or speak, like that."

"You give yourself too little credit, Robb Stark." Delylah sighed. She took the letter from him and before he could protest she reached back and threw it into the river. When he looked at her with a mixture of anger and shock she tilted her head to the side, incensed. "I can't let you do it. No girl wants another person's words coming from her man's mouth. If you are going to court a girl, you have to do it with your own merits. Otherwise it's lying."

Robb still looked irritated but how could he argue with her? He looked at the river as though he were debating swimming after the letter. Finally he sighed and looked back to Delylah. "Girls are trouble."

Delylah smiled at his words. "Yes they are." She agreed. "But you're a good guy, Robb. We'll find you a nice, pretty one. No worries. There has to be at least one out there."

She studied her mud covered shoes as she spoke. She could feel his eyes still on her. She was trying to pretend the 'almost kiss' hadn't happened. She was already tired of these close encounters with her two friends that were making all three of them realize she was a girl. Too soon she was going to have to start behaving and acting different; she wasn't ready for that. Childishly, she wished things didn't have to ever change and three of them could be friends forever. In her heart she knew that would never happen. They had to grow up sometime.

"You're all muddy." His voice was soft. He reached over and tried to wipe a smudge off her cheek. His hands were so grimy that he just left a bigger smear.

She looked over at him with half a grin. "You are too." She pointed out. He looked down at his clothes as though he hadn't realized how dirty he was before. "Do you think we can get back and change before anyone asks questions?"

Robb shrugged, standing and brushing himself off. He helped her up and tilted his head at her with an impish grin. "Not sure. But I'll race you."

**A/N:** This chapter felt shorter while writing it but it's just as long as the other, at least in word count. Thank you for reviews, they have all made me smile. Next chapter will be up soon. If you take a moment to review, let me know who you think she should be with and why. I have two muses, one for either guy, just wondering what you guys think. Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The days that followed were warm and stifling. The older men who had lived through various summers and winters claimed it always got the hottest just before a long winter was to come. If that was true, it was going to be a whopper of a winter.

Delylah sent silent prayers of thanks to whatever gods were listening that Jon and Robb seemed to have forgotten about their run ins. Both boys were acting as nothing had happened, or almost happened, and she felt relief that she didn't have to worry about losing their friendships quite yet. Growing up was happening all too fast.

On the last day of the month the men typically rode to a nearby town, Renheim, a half day's ride south, to do some trading and buying of supplies Winterfell did not provide. They typically weren't necessities; keeps had to be self sustaining in a time of war. But they were in a time of peace and as such they were able to indulge on some extravagances.

Typically Eddard, Robb, Jon, and either Jory or Rodrik went with a handful of guardsmen. Today, Bran and Delylah were going with them. Bran was allowed because he was coming of age where he needed to learn more responsibilities; Delylah was going because Lady Stark had some personal requests that she didn't trust the men to get. Delylah was the only girl in the keep that was an accomplished enough rider and wouldn't be an inconvenience to the men so she was allowed to accompany the group this one time.

It was her father going this time, not her uncle. Jory, Robb, Jon, Bran, and Delylah were on their horses, waiting for Lord Stark and his personal guards to show. They were late. Jon's horse pawed the ground impatiently and Bran had to keep steering his mount back away from the front gate.

"Where is father?" The youngest boy sighed. He was eager to go on his first trip away from Winterfell.

"He's coming." Robb insisted calmly. He looked very lordly atop his steady horse. He seemed to be the only one in complete control of his steed at the moment.

Ned Stark appeared suddenly in the courtyard, making his way intently toward the small group of gathered horses. He was not in his riding clothes and his expression was one of anger or possibly worry; either way it was alarming.

"I will not be going with you to Renheim." Lord Stark told them bluntly. "Something has come to my attention that needs to be dealt with immediately. I apologize for your delay but it could not be helped."

Robb's brows knit together with concern. "Is everything alright, father? Maybe we should cancel the journey altogether-"

Ned cut his son off. "No, I would still like to get the supplies. It is nothing that you need to worry about, it is my affair." His expression didn't do much to reassure any of them. "But Bran, you will not be going this time. If I am not there to accompany you then I'd like you to stay."

"But, father-" Bran protested.

"I can watch him." Robb offered.

"No." Ned's word was stern and final. "Next time, Bran." He softened a bit, walking over and grabbing the reigns of Bran's horse. "I want them to be quick so they will be back first thing in the morning tomorrow. I do not want them having the extra burden of keeping an eye on you. Sorry, little one."

"I'm not little." Bran crossed his arms and pouted but there was nothing the young boy could do.

"I sent two guards, they'll meet you at the fork. Safe journey." Ned nodded at the four of them before leading Bran's horse back toward the stables.

"I'm surprised he let you come." Jon looked over at Delylah.

"I'm on an important mission from Lady Stark." Delylah pointed out, reaching over and patting her horse's neck affectionately. "He dare not let me go." She grinned.

Jory looked half a mind to tell her to stay put but she urged her horse on before he could voice his protests. "Let's go, we're already late." She pointed out.

The marketplace at Renheim was a sight to behold. Robb and Jon had told her stories but today she got to witness it for herself. Men and women of all sizes, shapes, and colors stood in front of stalls calling out to people passing by to come look at their wares. There was food, there was jewelry, there were clothes, there were weapons and armor; anything you could think of was there. Delylah felt overwhelmed before she even started.

"What is your mission?" A whisper in her ear startled her. She looked up to see Jon standing very close, leaning in to her to be heard over the din of the market. Swallowing the butterflies she managed a smile.

"Cloth, for the draperies. Lady Stark wants to redecorate. Also some jewelry as a present for Sansa. Her birthday is soon, remember?"

Jon made a face at her. "We needed to drag you along for that? I could pick out cloth and jewelry."

Delylah turned to face him, hands on her hips, half grin in place. "Really, Jon Snow? She wants chartreuse, maroon, and azure fabrics with brocade in silver, not gold. She wants an amethyst pendant or an emerald bracelet, princess cut either way. Do you know what any of that is?"

Jon's eyes grew wider as she spoke, realizing the mistake he made too late. "Maroon is red, right?" He quipped, biting back laughter.

Delylah shook her head but had to smile wryly as she punched his shoulder. "Not exactly, but close. You want to help me shop?"

Jon held up his hands and backed away. "No, I'll leave you to it. I'm on weapons duty. Meet at the gate in an hour." When she nodded he turned and was swept away in the crowd.

Delylah was instantly in love with the market when she started to shop. She loved that she was allowed little tastes of some drinks. The cloth vendors were the best, allowing her to touch and feel all of their fabrics. She was able to find most of what Lady Stark wanted at the first stall she found. Later down the row she found another cloth vendor with the rest of what she needed. She was happy she wasn't going back to Winterfell short of what the Lady requested.

She came across three jewelry stalls. The first had jewelry that was way too gaudy for the nobles she knew; maybe they were fit for kings or queens but they were too much for a Stark. The second stall had beautiful merchandise but it seemed way over priced to her. The man trying to sell her something kept putting necklaces and headbands and bracelets on her but they were way over the budget Lady Stark had given her. Delylah politely thanked him and left as soon as there was an opening.

Disappointed she was going to return without Sansa's present, she was pleasantly surprised to find one last stall that had jewelry. It wasn't as ornate as the previous vendors but it was beautiful in its simplicity. Her eyes immediately fell to a necklace with a simple, small sapphire pendant encircled in diamonds. Blue was her favorite color and this particular shade of gem was enchanting. She had a hard time looking away.

"It's the same shade as your eyes." A voice in her ear told her softly. She whirled around to find Robb standing close behind her. She blushed then frowned, not at all comfortable with the fact that both he and Jon were whispering things in her ear. She never remembered them being so physically close to her before.

"Same shade as yours as well." Delylah pointed out, hoping he thought the color in her cheeks was from him startling her and not because she was nervous that he was so close to her.

"Do you like it?" He asked, looking past her at the pendent. If he noticed her flush, he was ignoring it.

Delylah turned back to the jewelry. "I do, but it's not what I'm here for. Your mother wants an emerald or amethyst for your sister."

"Birthday present." Robb mused. Delylah nodded her agreement. While he continued to stare at the sapphire and be no help whatsoever, Delylah inspected the rest of the stall's wares. The vendor pointed out the few amethyst necklaces he had. Two were very simple but one was perfect for Sansa. Intricate gold chains weaved together with three princess cut amethysts surrounding a tiny diamond. It was just barely over the budget that Lady Stark had given Delylah but she knew it was worth it to go over price. She bought it and carefully stowed it in her leather pouch at her hip.

She turned back to Robb who was busying himself looking at other pieces of jewelry. "I'm ready." She told him. "I think it's time we meet father and Jon back at the gate."

"One moment, I'm looking for a present for Sansa myself." He picked up a gem encrusted hair comb. "I'll be along in a minute. Don't wait for me."

Delylah squinted her eyes at him in suspicion but he was ignoring her. With a sigh, she turned and headed toward the gate. It wasn't far; she could see Jon and her father waiting patiently.

They headed back home as soon as Robb joined them. The trip required an overnight stop; the group of men usually stopped and set up camp late and broke early in the morning. This trip was going to be no exception. Some time after the sun went down, Jory decided it was time to stop and make a fire. He and the guardsmen went off to find something for dinner while Robb, Jon, and Delylah set up the camp.

With a fire going and bedrolls laid out not far, the three sat in a circle around the flames. Jon was busy telling a story he'd heard from a Renheim city guard that day when Delylah heard the distinct sound of a twig snapping. Her lips turned downward but she didn't interrupt Jon. She wasn't listening to the story anymore, however, straining to hear beyond her friend's voice. When she was about to dismiss it as a figment of her imagination she heard the rustle of bushes.

"Shhh." Robb held a hand up gently toward Jon, cutting him off midsentence. He appeared to be listening too; he'd heard the same sounds as she. His eyes darted back and forth in the darkness, trying to pinpoint where the sound came from.

Jon had sense enough to not question and remain silent. He too seemed to be listening for whatever it was Robb was hearing. Silence pushed in around them from all sides; it was suffocating.

"Maybe it was Jory?" Jon suggested.

"Why wouldn't he just walk back into camp?" Robb asked, frowning.

"An animal?" Delylah suggested knowing that the sound she heard was too big to be a safe animal. Robb simply shook his head. He leaned back and pulled his scabbard toward him, grabbing the hilt of his sword. Jon began to do the same when all hell broke loose.

Four men burst from the trees and brush from all four corners of the camp. Robb was able to meet steel with steel with the closest one but Jon was a little behind on getting his sword. He did a forward roll and was barely missed by the closest man's axe; the axe head thudded into the dirt where Jon had been a second earlier. Luckily, this gave Jon enough time to grab his sword from its scabbard so he could block the next swing from the axeman.

Delylah wasn't fortunate enough to have a sword nearby. The man nearest her swung his sword haphazardly in her direction, probably thinking her easy prey. Instinct and training kicked in and she easily avoided the blow but realized she had nothing to defend herself with. As he went for her again, a little more precise this time, she did the only thing she could think of; she took a handful of dirt and grass and flung it toward his eyes. A dirty move indeed, but her only line of defense.

The man screamed in outrage and pain, reeling backward from her enough that she could take the moment to stand and kick him in the chest with all her might. It knocked him backward on his butt and she rushed forward to slam her knee into his nose. There was a satisfying crack when she broke his nose and he fell onto his back, out of commission. She reached down for his sword and turned back toward the camp.

The man Jon was fighting wasn't very good and was tiring fast. As she looked over to him he blocked a slow swing with ease, held the man there, then gave him a good kick in the ribs. As his opponent stumbled backward Jon slashed him with a killing slice to the abdomen. The man fell, never to rise again.

Robb was having less luck with his man. The attacker had gotten a few good swings in; Robb was bleeding from the cheek and left arm. But you would never know he'd been injured. He was fighting just as fiercely now as at the beginning of the fight and it was turning in his favor. With a feint and a thrust, the less skilled man was run through by the young Stark, falling dead to the ground.

All three friends took a deep breath but Delylah felt there was something wrong, something missing. She didn't feel safe yet, though the three attackers were on the ground, dead or unconscious. Three men, three attackers….wait, weren't there four-

She stiffened as she felt the cold steel of a blade against her throat. A strong arm snaked around her waist and pulled her tight against himself. Number four. She felt a warm trickle of blood curl its way from the cut the knife was making in her neck. He wasn't taking any chances on her getting away. "Drop it." A coarse voice growled in her ear. She released the sword as Jon and Robb looked her way and noticed the fourth man.

"Let her go." She could see the fear in Robb's eyes but his voice gave away none of it. His voice was strong and clear.

"You killed my friends. I want to repay you the favor." The man snarled over her shoulder. "Drop your weapons."

"You won't live." Jon promised.

"Neither will she." There was a chuckle in the man's voice.

Robb and Jon exchanged looks. Hesitantly, they lowered their swords to the ground, fire and hate burning in their eyes. Robb snuck a worried look at Delylah before looking back at her captor.

"What do you want?" Robb asked, trying to be diplomatic. "You attacked us for a reason, what do you want?"

The man paused. She couldn't see his face but she figured he was weighing his options. He could kill her which would lead inevitably to his death by the hands of her two friends. On the other hand, he could use her as a bargaining chip to get what he wanted and maybe leave with his life. She hoped he was smart enough to figure out the latter was a better choice.

"What do all bandits want?" The man finally replied. His arm around her waist slacked a bit and she tried to decide if it was enough to make a move to get away.

"Money." Robb replied with a disgusted sneer. "Pathetic."

The man laughed. "I'm pathetic? I'm the one who has your girlyfriend here which easily disarmed the likes of you two. I'm not the one who's pathetic. Now throw me your coin purses, send me over one of those horses and I'll let her go." He tightened his grip on her waist again. "Once I'm a mile away I'll leave her tied to a tree for you to find. How's that sound?"

Both boys had indecision dancing in their eyes. There was no reason to trust this man and his deal was less than ideal but what choice did they have if they wanted her to live? He could slit her throat before either one could get to her; she'd be dead before they moved a muscle.

"Hurry up boys, the offer's only on the table for about thirty more seconds-" The gravelly voice behind her cut off into a gurgling slur. The hand slipped from her neck but the weight of his arm pulled her down with him as her captor fell to the ground. She turned and looked at the hideous man to find his throat slit and his eyes already glazed over in death. She looked upward to find her father standing there with a knife at his side and hellfire burning in his gaze.

"I leave you alone for thirty minutes and this is what I find when I return?" Jory Cassel's voice was quiet but deadly. He looked past her to the two boys he had left her with.

"Ser Cassel, they came from nowhere. They snuck up and attacked without warning-" Robb started but stopped when Jory's eyes snapped toward him. "It's no excuse. We should have been prepared." Robb finished softly.

Jory commanded the two guardsmen to search the perimeter for other men. The Captain of the Guard then dropped the rabbits that were caught for dinner by the fire and walked around the clearing, looking at the fallen men. He stopped first by Jon. "You killed this man?" He asked. Jon nodded, eyes on his feet. Jory frowned but clapped Jon on his back.

Next he walked over to Robb who stood tall, hands clasped behind his back. Jory looked to his fallen man then to Robb's wounds. "You killed this man?" He asked. Robb nodded once, eyes straight forward. Jory returned the nod with silent approval.

Finally he walked over to the man that Delylah had fought. He knelt by him and put his fingers to his throat, feeling for a pulse. Jory looked over at his daughter. "You did this?" He asked.

"Yes sir." She replied in a raspy whisper.

"He's alive, but barely. There is a lot of blood here, I doubt he'll last until morning." Jory looked almost sad as he spoke. She stood from the ground the same time he rose from the body. She felt her heart sink as she realized what he was saying. She had killed somebody. Even though that man had attacked her, tried to kill her, it wasn't a pleasant feeling. She felt tears well up behind her eyes; she willed them not to fall.

Jory walked over to her and kissed her forehead. "I'm glad you are okay." Unable to stop them, the tears spilled from her eyes. She was unable to speak; she simply nodded her response.

As Jory cooked dinner, Delylah tended to Robb's wounds. No one made eye contact; no one spoke for the whole evening. It was a somber experience, the first killing of men for the three young adults. It was emotionally draining and no one felt like talking about it. After dinner they went to sleep, the two guardsmen staying up as sentinels.

"Lylah, you have to sleep by me." Robb insisted, dragging her bedroll over by his.

"By us." Jon corrected, setting his bed up on the other side of where Robb laid hers.

Delylah took a deep breath, feeling suddenly awkward. Neither boy had ever felt protective of her before and now they were tripping over themselves to defend her. "I don't think that's necessary-"

"Probably not, but we'll feel better." Robb crossed his arms. His expression told her he wasn't going to budge on this.

Exhaling loudly she lay down on her bedroll between the two boys. As they settled in on either side of her she thought about how symbolic this moment was. Here she was, stuck between two boys she grew up with; her best friends. She had strong feelings for both but she wasn't familiar enough with these emotions to know exactly what she felt. All she knew was that life was getting terribly complicated awfully fast and it had nothing to do with the attack this night.

Robb had said before that girls were trouble. She had to disagree. It was the boys that were trouble.

**A/N**: Thanks again for reviews and opinions! I hope this chapter didn't end too abruptly. I was only going to write part of the chaper tonight but once I got going I couldn't stop until it was over! Now it's late at night and I can't tell if it makes sense. So let me know! :)


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

It was only a few days later when practice ended early. The sun was high in the sky but already the warmth that had been sweltering a week ago was a memory. There was a bite in the air that the sun couldn't penetrate. Winter was coming.

Since the trip to Renheim, sparring sessions had become more serious and intense. Practice sessions used to be fun competitions but now there was fire behind each swing and grave looks in the boys' eyes. Killing men had shown them that practicing wasn't just a contest; it was preparation for saving your life.

Delylah found herself distracted during their practices. With the sudden serious turn of events she knew her time allowed in the arena was going to be short; as a girl she couldn't keep up with the strong arms of men. And Robb and Jon were no longer boys. She tried to divert her attention by focusing on improving her archery skills but she had never been one for a bow. It made her more frustrated than anything else.

On this particular day, practice time ended early because Lord Stark's brother, Benjen, was to arrive this evening. It was said he was only going to be staying a few days but a feast was still to be held in his honor tonight. All the Stark children were expected to attend, along with Jon, and with all the Keep families. That meant her as well. She was not pleased that she had to get fancied up this night.

Instead of going home to get ready, Delylah went to the stables. She saddled her horse and as inconspicuously as possible left the keep to head down by the river. She needed time to think and she could only do that alone, without distractions. There was a lot on her mind.

In their spot, the place where she, Robb, and Jon held sacred, she tied off her horse and sat, watching the sunlight dance on the water. The river was flowing smooth today, taking it's time, enjoying the sunshine. Soon enough it would be icy, cold, and rushed. She brought up her knees, wrapping her arms around her legs, and rested her chin atop them. What was she to do?

Her inner conflict was about her two friends. As swiftly as they seemed to be realizing she was a woman, she was just coming to terms with the fact that they were men. She recognized that soon they would all have to make choices for their future, the biggest one being who they would marry. If they didn't choose themselves, and soon, their parents would choose for them, especially Robb. Lady Stark already had a few ideas in that department.

Delylah had never before thought about marrying one of her friends. She saw them as her brothers, growing up as close to them as any sister. She thought briefly about finding someone else to marry, someone other than Robb or Jon. If she did that, she'd most likely see very little of the two men in her future. The thought of her life without them in it was too much to handle. She pushed that thought very far away. No, she wanted the two of them in her life forever. It was selfish but that didn't make it any less true.

But she couldn't have both. Her personal, top choice, was that none of them marry and they all stayed friends, living together in Winterfell happily. She smiled ruefully at her own thoughts. Yes and everyone would frolic in the streets with puppies and kittens, it would never snow, and diamonds would rain from the sky. Fantasy land.

Back to reality. She thought about Robb first; tall, strong, fast, honorable. Mischievous to the core. A man with a good heart and a strong personality. Most of the time he was a happy person but his anger was swift and hot when provoked. Loyal and honorable, Robb studied his father; someday he would make a great Lord Stark of Winterfell.

Then there was Jon. Sweet and suffering Jon. Kind, loving, protecting, respectable. He was watchful, good at reading people and knowing the right thing to say to keep peace. He was fiercely loyal to his family, despite Lady Stark. True, he could be quick to offend and tended to be broody but if you knew the right words to say, Jon could be fun-loving and downright cheerful.

So there she had it; two exceptionally good men, both with flaws but both amazing. The future was the problem. Robb would be a Lord; he needed a lady, someone with nobility in their birth, to legitimize his sovereignty. If he married her, a commoner, it could cost him the respect of his people and his peers. It wasn't unheard of a lord to do, but it was unpopular. Not to mention she wasn't sure if she was capable of running a household, much less a Keep. The thought of being the Lady of Winterfell was daunting to say the least. She frowned at the thought.

Jon, on the other hand, had recently been talking more and more about leaving. His top choice of future jobs was taking the black and joining the Night Watch. Delylah shuttered every time she thought about it. Jon deserved a family, deserved a normal life, not to be off in the middle of nowhere, freezing his butt off and defending a country that would hardly care. She knew going to the wall was meant to be an honorable choice but in her heart she knew those men defending the southern countries were all but forgotten once they were up there. No family, no legacy to pass on, no laughter and happiness to be had. It seemed like a sad, lonely life choice, not an honorable one. She saw it in Benjen's eyes when he visited. He always put on a façade of contentment with his choice but she saw the loneliness he hid and the envy he felt toward his brother's family. It was not a life she wished on anyone, much less her best friend.

She tried to tell Jon more than once that he could be Captain of the Guard or Master of Arms at Winterfell like her father or uncle once they passed. If he just stuck around long enough, learned to be a guard, he could have honor and leadership in the keep. Robb would definitely appoint him to whatever job he wished all he had to do was be patient. Unfortunately for her, Jon was not always a patient man.

And now, today, Benjen Stark was coming for a few days for some unknown reason. Delylah bit her bottom lip nervously as she thought about it. Normally she loved the boys' uncle. She was just as eager as they were to hear his stories from The Wall and about the other men that helped him defend it. Today, she felt dread in the pit of her stomach and it was growing by the hour. It would consume her by the time the feast started. Jon was going to try to go back with his uncle to The Night Watch. She just knew it. She hated the thought.

She heard someone approaching from behind. They were on horseback and not trying to be stealthy in the least. She supposed she should be frightened after her recent escapade but she wasn't. It was most likely someone she knew out to find her. Her absence from home was surely noted by now. The sun was rapidly approaching the horizon and she wasn't even dressed for the feast yet, much less having her hair done or any of the other niceties her mother would make her wear. She continued to sit, arms wrapped around her legs, trying to make herself as small as possible. She didn't feel much like being festive today.

Whoever was there had gotten off their horse and sat beside her. She felt his or her presence more than she actually heard them. The lightness of step and the smell of steel told her it was Jon that was next to her. Robb was heavier footed and usually smelled of leather. Delylah buried her head in her knees, not wanting to face the object of her recent thoughts. They sat without talking for a few moments but Jon was not like Robb. He disliked the quiet and would rather talk than spend time in silence.

"The feast is soon." He told her quietly.

"I know." Her voice was muffled as she replied without lifting her head.

"Are you alright?" She could hear the concern in his voice.

Interesting question. Was she alright? Physically yes; emotionally far from it. She took a deep breath and lifted her head. "I'm fine." She half lied. She turned her head toward him, her blue eyes meeting his black ones. He was obviously concerned for her but there was confusion there as well. "What?" She couldn't help but ask.

"I don't get you." He replied, shaking his head and looking away from her. He plucked a piece of long grass and began twirling it absently around his fingers, staring at the river. "I used to understand you, but lately, I…" he trailed off, searching for the right words. With a shrug he finished helplessly, "Don't."

Delylah let out a long, slow sigh. Complicated was an understatement at this point. "I'm still the same me, Jon. I don't know what you're trying to 'get' but I'm still just Lylah Cassel. The same girl you've known since birth."

He shook his head before she even finished talking. "No, not the same. Different." He looked like he wanted to say more but he bit his tongue instead. He began picking the piece of grass apart, tossing the bits aside. "We're all different." He added softly.

The haunting look in his eyes told her he was thinking about the night of the fight; the night where each friend had taken a life. But there was something more and she thought she knew what the underlying meaning was he was getting at. She didn't want to acknowledge it and neither did he. They were growing up and they weren't kids any more. She wasn't always acting like one of the boys and it troubled him. It troubled them both.

Delylah abruptly hated the tension and unspoken words in the air. She and Jon were being super serious and it was stressing her out; she was exhausted. Innuendo be damned, she was tired of playing games and being on an emotional roller coaster. She sat up straight, cross legged, hands in her lap. "We're growing up, Jon. Things are going to have to change. We can't be kids forever." Her own words stung like a blade slicing through her heart but she knew it had to be said. "I hate it."

She felt Jon's gaze whip toward her. The last remnants of the piece of grass he held fell, forgotten, to the ground. "That's honest." He sounded surprised.

Not looking at him she nodded once. "We're friends. We need to be honest. It's the only way to stay friends in adulthood. Honesty, loyalty, and trust. I don't ever not want to have those with you." She wanted desperately to see his expression but she didn't have faith in herself to look at his face.

"Same." His voice was low and husky, filled with emotion. "So, if we're being honest, maybe we should talk about-"

"Jon Snow and Delylah Cassel, if you are not back to the keep in ten minutes, Lord Stark will have both your heads." Jory was upon them without warning. Anger flared in his eyes as the two friends jumped and looked over to him. "And I will gladly be the one holding your wrists. Now get on your horses and let's go."

The sun was already behind the trees in the west. Delylah didn't realize she had been out there for so long. She stood quickly and made for her horse, saying a silent thank you to her father for coming when he did. She wanted to be honest but she wasn't sure she was ready for _that_ much honesty with Jon. In order to talk about the topic he was about to bring up she would have to speak about her feelings. How could she be truthful with him if she hardly knew what she was feeling herself?

Back at the keep, she and Jory went their separate way from Jon. Lucky for her, having Jory there curtailed any additional talk of feelings and honesty with Jon. Now her father was all but pushing her along back to the house, grumbling about her mother being upset and nagging at him for her absence.

Once in the house, Delylah was grabbed by the arm and dragged into her bedroom by her mother. Her cousin Beth, much younger, was there already dressed for the occasion, giggling at Delylah getting in trouble. Complaining the whole time about her tardiness and ungratefulness, her mother pulled out Delylah's finest dress and made her put it on. Her mother helped, but roughly, pulling the strings too tight on the bodice in her anger. As she sat for her mother to work on her hair she stared at her reflection in the mirror with contempt. The last thing she felt like doing tonight was going to a party.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Winterfell hall was a sight to see during a feast. Beautiful draperies hung from the ceiling in flowing silver and white, enough candles lit the room to make it seem as though it were still daytime. The head table was set with a shimmering tablecloth, the house sigil of the direwolf hanging directly in front of Eddard Stark's seat. There were seats just below the Stark table for special guests or visiting nobles. The rest of the tables were for guardsmen, house staff, and anyone else who had been invited to join the festivities. Normally these were first come, first serve seats and you could choose where you sat.

At Winterfell, Lord Stark ran things a little differently. There was a special table set aside for the Cassels; since he employed so many of them and appreciated their services, the family had its own table to sit at when they were called to a celebration. Since they were still commoners their arrival wasn't announced but it was still nice to have the small honor of their own family table.

Delylah always felt silly in fancy dresses. They were heavy and awkward to walk in; she preferred her light clothing she wore daily. She couldn't move quickly enough in the dresses she was supposed to wear to gatherings. It was one reason she was glad she wasn't a noble; then she'd have to wear fancy dresses all the time.

Though she had to admit, the dress she was wearing was pretty. The sky blue shade brought out the coloring of her eyes and the silver embroidery done by her mother was careful and delicate. It wasn't an overly gaudy dress, it was very simple, but it was beautiful. They had been running late, because of Delylah, so her mother was unable to put any jewelry on her so she was accessory free and all the happier for it. She was always afraid she would lose one of her mother's precious bits of jewelry.

As she sat at the Cassel table next to her father she saw Jon across the way. He was sitting at a lowborn table amidst men of the Keep Guard. Ghost was under his legs, keen ruby eyes watching everything around them, guarding his master. Jon was laughing at something the man next to him was saying, enraptured in the conversation at his table. Delylah had to grin at the sight; it was always nice to see Jon happy, having fun, and smiling. He had a nice smile.

The Stark family was announced and they came in by twos. First Ben came in, escorting Lady Stark. Benjen looked the same as Delylah remembered from before but his dark hair was tinged with more streaks of gray. He was putting on one of his forced smiles; she didn't think he liked these formal occasions any more than she did.

Next came Lord Stark escorting a noble lady that had been invited for the feast. She thought the girl had been announced as Lady Bobcat but that didn't seem right so she must have misheard. Either way, she was very beautiful, about Delylah's age, and held her head high with a sneering smile. Delylah despised her instantly.

Then came Robb with Sansa. Sansa was the prettiest one in the room, as always. Whereas the lady before her had a dark beauty, Sansa had a ,glow that shone from within that made her beauty radiate throughout the room. Her dress, her hair, her step were all light and graceful and her smile was genuine. Sansa and Delylah usually didn't get along; indeed she was probably Delylah's least favorite Stark child, but one had to concede to her beauty. Tonight she looked radiant.

And next to her, Robb looked lordly. He walked straight, standing his full six foot, his good cloak thrown casually around his shoulders. He was in his dress leathers, the same he had wore for his birthday not long ago but Delylah hadn't had a chance to see him at the actual gathering. He had a pleasant look on his face as he escorted his sister, not quite a smile because he was to be tough and strong, but since he was Robb he looked like he was on the edge of a grin. Maybe she could just see it in his eyes because she knew him too well.

She felt her heart rise and sink in the same moment. Delylah had never quite realized how handsome he was until she watched him parade in the hall. Her stomach did the butterfly thing but as she watched him walk past she suddenly felt nauseous. He was a noble, a future Lord Stark of Winterfell. He would never be with her.

Delylah saw the rest of the procession but didn't process any of what was going on. Her mind was lost in thought about her unexpected revelation. Even if she wanted to be with Robb she couldn't; how could she take that man down any amount of notches? He deserved to be with a noble, a lady who was highborn and knew the ins and outs of society and running a Keep. Delylah was none of those things. She would only bring him down, put shame on the Stark name. She didn't know if she was in love with Robb, she knew she loved him as a friend, but in that moment she made her choice.

She felt a calmness that she'd been lacking previously, since the kiss with Jon. The decision was made for her and the more she thought about it, the more she liked it. Jon would never go north to The Wall if he had a chance at happiness and a family here in Winterfell. He could be Robb's Captain of the Guard and the three of them could still be together; Robb with a noble lady worthy of him and she and Jon nearby. Why hadn't she thought about it before? It would be perfect.

Delylah didn't know if she was in love with Jon either. To be honest to herself, she wasn't sure what it meant to be in love. She'd never had to think about it before. All she knew was that she loved the two men as her best friends and she couldn't imagine how incomplete her life would be without them in it. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She hated that they had to grow up.

"You alright, daughter?" Jory asked, eyeing her suspiciously.

Delylah's eyes snapped open and she looked at her father curiously. "Yes, why?"

"You haven't said a word at all this evening, just stared at your empty plate in silence. That worries me."

Delylah forced a smile. "I'm okay. Just a lot to think about lately."

"I've noticed. You're distracted all the time lately." Jory didn't look pleased. He grumbled something under her breath that she didn't catch but as she didn't want to get swept in a discussion with her father about her thoughts, she excused herself from the table to go find a drink.

What she really wanted was to get out of that stifling room. The Hall was large but when you put dozens of people in it, the room shrank fast and the temperature heated quickly. She ducked into one of the vacant corridors and began walking away from the feast. There was a balcony at the end of the hallway, a small one, just built there to have an open window that kept the hallway full of fresh air. She leaned out on her forearms and took a long gulp of the icy night. The moon was full, the sky clear and cloudless, and the darkness quiet. She much preferred this to the chaos of the feast inside.

"You left the party." A voice behind her said. She smiled but didn't turn and he came up beside her to lean over the balcony. "I agree. Iit's much more pleasant out here. Too many people back in there."

Delylah grinned at Robb, stepping back into the hallway from the balcony. "You know me, the social butterfly that I am."

Robb returned the smile, following her back inside. "You'd rather be down there swinging a sword, just like me."

"Or out in the woods on a horse." Delylah agreed. "Large groups of people make me nervous."

"Me as well." Robb nodded tightly, walking past her a bit.

"You'll have to get over that." Delylah reminded him. "Some day it will be _you_ hosting these feasts and parties."

Robb turned back to her, lips curving downward at her words. "Did you have to remind me?"

Delylah shrugged then leaned against the wall of the corridor. "It'll happen soon enough_." We're not kids anymore_, she added mentally but she couldn't force the words out of her mouth. She was holding onto the sliver of a hope that he still was still seeing her as his childhood friend, not as a woman whom he almost kissed.

That hope was crushed when he stood in front of her, inches away, looking intently into her eyes. The look startled her; she had never seen Robb so serious before. Her escape was blocked; he was literally right in front of her. She felt her mouth go dry; she tried to swallow but was unable to. All she could do was look into his eyes.

"I got something for you." He spoke softly.

Delylah blinked at the unexpected words. "Got something for me?" She managed to squeak out.

His serious expression softened as a smile lit his eyes. "Your name day is coming up. I know it's early, but I can't wait any longer to give it to you."

She looked at him as though he were crazy. He was being all intense and up her face to give her a birthday present? She had thought for sure he had been about to kiss her. She felt like a fool.

Until he lifted his hand and she saw her present. She gasped, covering her mouth with her hands. It was the sapphire necklace she saw at the market back in Renheim weeks ago. Robb looked delighted at her reaction and moved to put it on her. Delylah wanted to stop him but her body wasn't listening to a word her brain was telling her. "It's too much!" She finally managed to get out.

He gave her a strange look. "No it's not. You liked it, I could afford it, and you deserve it. You're kind to everyone yet expect nothing in return; a trait most people don't possess. This time, you get something in return." He finished fastening the necklace but Delylah couldn't look away from his face.

"I'll lose it." She said faintly. She was always losing small things.

He chuckled and looked down at her. "You won't." He promised. He reached up and brushed a flyaway strand of hair from her forehead. He was all serious again.

She knew he was going to do it before he did it. She wanted to stop him but at the same moment she wanted him to do it. That side won out because when he leaned down to kiss her she pushed up on her toes to meet her lips with his. His lips were warm and his breath sweet with wine. This kiss was less awkward than her one with Jon but then it seemed like this was Robb's plan all along so he had been more prepared.

Jon. Robb. Jon! What was she doing kissing Robb? She had already made her decision and she was about to ruin everything if she let this go on. Reluctantly, she pressed her hands against Robb's chest, pushing him away. Surprised azure eyes met hers, his expression wounded. "Was it unpleasant?"

"No!" Delylah responded before thinking. Shaking her head she tried to sidestep away but she was trapped with her back against the wall. "I mean, no it wasn't unpleasant, but we can't." She repeated in a softer voice.

He looked perplexed. "We can't?" His voice bordered on amusement.

"No, Robb, we can't." She decided it best to duck under his arm to get away from him. She needed to space to breathe. With him so close she was having a hard time forming complete thoughts.

"I don't understand." Robb turned with her and gently grabbed her upper arm to face her back toward him. His face told her he wanted to comprehend why she was turning him down. There wasn't a trace of anger anywhere in him.

Taking a deep breath, she exhaled slowly. "You're a highborn, a noble of the house Stark. You need a lady, someone with better blood than me to be with." Her eyes searched the floor, unable to look at his face while she spoke. "I am just a commoner."

There was a moment of silence then an uncomfortable chuckle. "Rubbish."

She looked at him then and his expression was one of amusement. He let go of her arm and crossed his in front of his chest. That's all he was going to say about it.

"Your mother will not let you wed a commoner." She pointed out. She had to burst his bubble somehow, make him see that she couldn't be with him.

"My mother is not in charge of my life. My father will not care who I marry, as long as I'm happy." Robb countered.

"I won't make you happy, Robb. You'll lose respect for your house, you may even lose your standing here in Winterfell. I'm not worth it."

He frowned at that, the first sign of anger flashing in his eyes. Good, she was getting somewhere. His response floored her, however. "You're worth it." He took a step toward her and she retreated an equal step. She wasn't scared of him but she needed to keep distance between them. She didn't trust herself not to let him kiss her again. "I've met dozens of girls in the past few years, all nobles, all girls my mother is trying to marry me off to. They are all boring, stale, empty headed girls that I have nothing in common with, nothing to talk about too. And talk! They always have to talk, to have something to say. They don't appreciate quiet, or stillness, or just being. I don't like _any_ of them."

Delylah swallowed the lump that was building in her throat. She could see the anger brewing just under Robb's eyes; not directed toward her but still just as scary. Robb's fury was the one thing she tried to avoid when around him. Willing tears back, she knew she had to set him straight. "It's not a matter of liking. You have a duty, a responsibility to Winterfell, to the north. As such, you don't have the luxury of choice."

Robb smiled but it didn't reach his eyes. It was almost a frightening look, insincere. Within it she could see the hurt, the pain her words were causing him. "My father says I do. I have until my twentieth name day, you know this. He would have me choose for love rather than political gain. He says life it too short to be forced into something so important too soon."

Delylah did know that Lord Stark had said those words to Robb. She had been in the next room and overheard them. Still, she knew he had meant it for Robb to be able to choose which highborn girl he wanted to wed, not any girl in the Seven Kingdoms. But Robb had just said something that sparked an idea in her head. The one thing she could say to get him to back off right now. It would hurt him, but it would be for the greater good of them all.

He was looking at her desperately, wanting her to say something, anything. She backed away from him slowly, not wanting to crush every feeling he had with her words but she needed to make him see. She wasn't good enough for him, she wasn't worthy of being a Stark. Her words were quiet, but in the stillness of the corridor they echoed plainly. "I love Jon." Her breath caught in her throat as she waited.

At first she didn't think he heard her. He seemed frozen in place, staring at her with a piercing gaze that cut through her soul. Slowly, the fire died in his eyes and he seemed to shrink a few inches as he nodded and looked to the floor. He looked like a scolded child in that moment, disappointment plastered into his features.

Delylah's heart hurt knowing how much she just trampled the feelings of her best friend. Her automatic response was to go comfort him but she remained frozen in place, unable to move. She was dreadfully worried he now hated her and would never want to see her again. She had turned him down, crushing his heart beneath her boots as she did so. It wasn't her intention to wound him but it was too late, the damage was done.

"Have you told him?" Robb's voice was surprisingly calm. He brought his eyes back to hers; there was still hurt in their depths but also an understanding. Delylah shook her head, not trusting herself to speak. "You should."

"You're not mad?" The words were past her lips before she could stop them. His demeanor was curious to her.

Robb gave her a tight smile. "Furious. Disappointed. Abashed." He looked at her longingly. "But I get it. And if I was to lose you to anyone, it should be Jon. He's a good friend, a good brother."

Relief swept through her like a warm ocean breeze. This might still turn out okay. Hope began to bud in her heart and she allowed herself a small smile. "You're a good man, Robb Stark. You'll make someone a fine husband some day. Someone worthy of you."

"Don't say that." He held up a finger toward her, a small hint of anger back in his voice but his expression still soft. "You're worthy. You just didn't pick me."

"You can't tell the heart who to love." She wanted desperately to hug him for being so gracious, for being her best friend. She knew that would add insult to injury so she stayed her ground. She reached up to unclasp the necklace. "You'll want this back."

"No." He shook his head turning away from her. "Keep it. Birthday present, remember? It's yours." He began down the corridor away from her. "I'm returning to the feast."

When he had disappeared into the Hall, Delylah's knees gave out and she sat abruptly on the ground. The tears she had been fighting streamed down cheeks unchallenged. What was wrong with her? She was an emotional mess. Turning down Robb was the right thing to do; she knew it in her head. So why did it feel so wrong in her heart?

**A/N:** I orginally intended to put the part with Jon in this chapter as well but it was already getting long. Characters tend to have longer conversations on paper then they do in my head in the planning stages. Next chapter is already written but I won't post until tomorrow afternoon. Starting on Chapter 9 now. All your reviews make me smile, thanks for taking the time to post them. :)


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Delylah didn't think she could face anyone at the feast this evening after the conversation with Robb. She found a servant to send her apologizes to her father, feigning illness as an excuse. She exited the castle and headed across the courtyard toward her house. Emotionally exhausted, she just wanted to sleep.

A sound from the sparring arena caught her attention. Curious, she walked toward the noise to uncover its source. Clouds were moving in, covering the moon, so she had to get close to see what was going on. As she crossed the arena ground she found the cause of all the ruckus; Jon Snow was hacking a training dummy to shreds. He was the last person she wanted to see in this moment so as quietly as she could she turned to sneak back the way she came.

"Lylah?" The hacking sounds stopped and Jon's voice carried on the night wind to her ears.

Squinching her eyes shut she froze mid-step. Busted. "Yea?" She turned toward him, plastering a smile on her face.

"Why are you out here?" He asked, walking toward the sword rack to hang the practice weapon up.

"I could ask you the same." She gestured around them. "You are supposed to be celebrating your uncle's arrival."

"As are you. Are you okay?" Jon lifted an eyebrow at her. She knew she was behaving abnormally but did he have to be so damn observant?

"Ah, no, I was heading home. Stomach ache." She nodded in the direction of her house, taking a hesitant step back, hoping for an escape.

Jon took a few quick strides and was next to her before she could exhale. "You don't look sick." He frowned. "You look like you've been crying." His voice was tinged with concern.

"From the stomach ache." Delylah replied quickly. As an afterthought she put her hand to her belly, holding it as if she didn't feel well. "Ugh." She added.

Jon gave her his infamous crooked grin. "You're a terrible liar, Cassel." He crossed his arms and stared at her, waiting for an answer that satisfied him. "Didn't we have a discussion just today about honesty?"

Dang him and his steel trap memory. "I just had to leave, was all. Too many people. You know how I get."

"Same. Crowds make me nervous." Jon agreed, accepting her second excuse. "I like to practice out here alone. Helps me think."

Delylah nodded and Jon relaxed. He began walking with her toward her house, in step beside her. She couldn't help herself as they walked, the question just tumbled out. "What were you thinking about?" She was almost positive she didn't want to know the answer.

He hesitated in answering. He stopped walking, took her by her upper arms and faced her to him. His expression was serious, but he was usually serious so she couldn't read him. "I need to tell you something."

She blinked. Oh, seven hells, both of them in one night? Yes, she had made her decision this evening but everything was just happening too fast for her liking. She braced herself for whatever it was he was about to say.

Jon was taking a long time to say whatever it was. He was just staring at her, holding her arms, indecision in his onyx eyes. They stood like that for several moments until Delylah realized she was getting cold. She shivered involuntarily but it seemed to snap Jon out of whatever trance he was in. He let go of her, took his cloak, and wrapped it around her shoulders. Delylah just stood there, still as a statue, waiting for him to finish his words.

"I'm joining the Night's Watch." He finally just let it tumble out, quickly, like it was one word. They continued to stare at one another, Jon waiting for her to respond, her in too much shock to speak. "So?" He finally asked. "What do you think?"

"I think you're insane." She replied, finding her voice. "You can't join the Night's Watch. You'll never have a family. We'll never see you again." After all she'd been through tonight, losing Jon was about to push her over the edge. She had never felt such anger, such heat from within before. "You can't go."

Jon looked confused. Frowning he looked down at her peculiarly. "I've talked about this for years. It can't be surprising that I'm going."

"In jest, Jon! You've talked about it when you were upset or when we were joking around. You've never talked about it seriously." She couldn't keep from raising her voice an octave.

"I was serious." Jon replied in a small voice.

Delylah thrust a finger into his chest, stabbing him with every other word to emphasize her point. "You will _not_ leave here to join the Night Watch. You cannot leave Robb or I here alone. We're your friends, your _family_."

"I don't belong here, Lylah, you know this." Jon was looking cross; he couldn't decide whether to be angry or confused. "I don't have a future here."

"You can," Delylah was starting to feel desperate. He was arguing with her; she had to get him to see what a mistake he was making. Why couldn't these boys figure out what was best for them instead of making her make all the difficult decisions? "You can stay, be the Captain of Robb's guard, or the Master at Arms. We've talked about this, Jon. Catelyn is not going to be around forever.

"You think this has anything to do with Lady Stark?" Jon asked, pushing her finger away from his chest. "I want this. I _need_ this. I can find honor in going, like Uncle Benjen. I want to be a ranger, to protect the north. Don't you get it?"

She got it alright. Lady Stark was so uptight about Jon, kept his self esteem so low, that the only way he could think of to be honorable was to leave. Catelyn Stark had twisted his mind into making him think he was unworthy of any future but the one he just suggested. In that moment, Delylah hated her for that.

"I get it." Delylah answered softly. "I've been here the same amount of time you have. I know what you go through." She felt tears sting the back of her eyes. She promised herself she wouldn't cry again tonight. "But you can't leave me, Jon. You can't."

"Leave _you_?" He looked at her strangely, as though he didn't comprehend what she was saying. "What do you mean?"

Dense, boneheaded man. She grabbed the front of shirt and forced him to look into her eyes. "You can't leave me, I love you." The words felt strange and alien coming from her mouth. They were honest words insofar as she loved him as a friend. She still wasn't solid on the whole 'in love' concept. All she knew was that she had to do what it took to keep him in Winterfell.

Jon froze when the words left her lips. He peered down at her curiously as though he didn't quite hear her right. After the moment it took to process, he began shaking his head slowly. "No," he whispered. She couldn't tell what he meant by that. It didn't matter.

"Yes, Jon. You have a future here, with me. We can be together, we can have a family. You don't have to go to The Wall to find happiness. You can have it right here." The words came tumbling one right after the other. She hoped he couldn't hear the desperation in her voice.

He took a small step back from her. She was surprised; she had expected the words to make him joyful, to make him change his mind and immediately call the whole escapade off. So far, that wasn't the way it was working.

"Why?" He asked, eyeing her suspiciously. "Why would you say that?"

"Honesty, Jon. We've talked about it." She reminded him. That wasn't what he meant so she sighed before continuing. "You're kind hearted, your sweet with your brothers and sisters, you can make even my father laugh, and you're brave, like your father." She thought for a moment more. Why did she love Jon Snow? She meandered closer to him as she continued. "You're honorable and honest, serious when the situation calls for it, talented with a sword, and wise when it comes to council."

He had stopped backing away from her and was watching her with wonderment. She titled her head to the side as she approached, finding it easier to come up with reasons why she loved than she initially thought it would be. Grinning, she leaned against him, resting her head on his chest. "You're warm and strong; you will keep me safe and protect me from any harm. You're a good man, Jon Snow. I would be a fool _not_ to love you."

He started to put his arms around her. She felt them rise and the beginnings of a hug. Abruptly he dropped his arms, though. She snapped her head up to face him, her eyes questioning. His expression, moments ago vulnerable, was now closed off and hard.

"No." He managed to spit out.

"No?" She frowned. "I'm not lying."

"No, you shouldn't be with me. I'm just a bastard, a boy with nothing going for me. That's not good enough for you."

Her brows knit together as her frown deepened. "I just told you what you had going for you."

He took her by the arms again, more roughly this time, and stepped her back away from him. "There was a moment, in the rain, that I thought we might have a future. But I've thought about it a lot lately, Lylah. I'm no good for you."

Delylah was stunned speechless by two things. First was that he had been thinking about her. A lot. She almost blushed at the thought. The second thing that struck her was that he thought she was better than he was. That was certainly not true. "But-"

"No, you deserve a person who can treat you right. Buy you things. Take you places. Be a father to your children. I can do none of those things."

"You can, Jon-" The tears that had been threatening earlier came back in full force. She couldn't stop a few from spilling over.

He shook his head and looked away but she swore she saw his own tears welling up. She tried desperately to grab his face, to turn him back toward her but he pulled away. "You should be with Robb."

Delylah exhaled loudly, unable to believe her ears. "I can't be with Robb." She replied.

Jon looked back to her, his eyes bright but no tears shed. "Why not? He's everything you deserve."

"He's a lord, a noble. I'm not." She reached up with the heels of her hands and wiped away her tears. Sniffing, she added. "It wouldn't be allowed."

"Father would let you." Jon insisted.

"I don't love him." She countered forcefully. She dismissed the little voice in her head that was calling her a liar.

Jon smiled at that but didn't respond immediately. "You love me." He didn't sound as though he believed it.

Delylah nodded. He did the same, looking down at his feet. "I already told Uncle Benjen that I would go back with him when he left in three days."

"Tell him you changed your mind. There's no harm, dishonor, in that."

"I haven't yet."

"What?"

"Changed my mind." He took her by the hand and led her the last few yards to her house.

The first large drops of rain splashed onto the dirt around them. The thunder in the distance promised more rain to come. He stopped in front of her door and she faced him, taking his cloak of and returning it to his shoulders. Unable to stop herself she hugged him close, resting her head over his heart, hearing its pace quicken. Here they were again, in the rain, quickly being soaked to the bone, oblivious to anything but each other.

**A/N**: Shorter chapter but I had to end it there. Poor Lylah and her desperation to keep everything the same. Thanks for reviewing!


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

The rain was still falling the next morning when Delylah woke. She rolled over in her bed but didn't rise. She wondered how long she could get away with staying in her bed today. On top of the gray skies putting her in a mood, she didn't think she could face anyone today.

"Coming to practice today, love?" Jory was in her doorway about an hour later, looking at her with concern. Even though it was raining, it never stopped her father or uncle from holding practice sessions. Battles weren't fought in consistently good weather conditions.

Delylah was sitting on her bed, staring out her window at the spattering rain. She simply shook her head in response.

"Still not feeling well?" Her father couldn't disguise his worry.

Feeling guilty, she looked over at him. "No father, my stomach is still bothering me." Not a lie, just not a full truth. Her stomach was roiling but not over feeling sick; Jon had left last night without an answer to her parting question: _Will you stay?_ His indecisiveness was making her ill.

Jory nodded at her. He walked over and planted a kiss on the top of her head, ruffled her hair, then headed for the door. She should really go out and practice but she didn't think she was brave enough to face her friends. Instead, she flopped back down on her bed and tried to clear her mind. Maybe if she didn't think about the problem, it would just go away.

She must have fallen asleep because the next thing she knew sunlight was warming her face. Glancing out the window she saw the clouds had moved on and the sky was clear blue. The sun was high in the sky, meaning it was midday. Everyone would be in the small dining hall, eating lunch. It was a perfect time to make her escape. If she spent the entire day in her room she would have to answer her mother's questions. She needed to get out without attracting any attention. Now was her chance.

Outside her doorway she found two direwolves, Ghost and Grey Wind. Robb and Jon were keeping tabs on her, apparently. She put her fists on her hips as she looked at the two giant wolves. If she ran off now they would tattle on her; she wasn't sure how they communicated with the boys but the always seemed to know what each other was thinking. She didn't really want them tagging along but she really didn't have a choice. "Come on, then." She told them, motioning for them to follow her to the stables.

She was on her horse and galloping north, the opposite direction she usually went, with two wolves on her heels. It seemed they wanted to run, they wanted to race, and she was up for the challenge. Spurring her horse faster, she led the way up the rolling hills toward Northern Wolfswood. She didn't know where she was going, she just wanted to be away from the Keep.

The woods were dense and overgrown in this area. She reined her horse in, slowing down to a walk. The wolves bound past her, less hindered by the undergrowth of the forest. Sunlight streamed through the canopy in beams of rainbow light and cold water dripped from the leaves, leftover from the passing storm. Birds were calling but other than that the forest was quiet, eerie. Despite her horse and the direwolves nearby she felt very alone.

Her thoughts were quickly turning to Robb and Jon, people she did not want to ponder this afternoon. They had been foremost in her thoughts for too many weeks now and she was actually sick of trying to decide what to do about them. Today she wanted for herself. Today she wanted to be free of the tribulations of growing up.

The forest was beginning to be too thick for her horse to continue. She slid down, giving the mare a pat on her neck affectionately. She tied her off on a low branch. "I'll be back shortly." She promised before making her way through the closely knit trees.

She followed the path of the two direwolves. They were jumping and playing way ahead of her but every now and then one would turn back to make sure she was still in sight. They were Robb and Jon's wolves to be sure but she had grown up with them just as much as they had. She felt safe with them around.

A sudden breeze sent a chill down her spine. No, it wasn't the breeze, it was the eyes. Someone, or some_thing_, was watching her. She whipped her head around, searching for the source, but she was unable to see anyone. Still, the fine hairs on the back of her neck refused to settle. She continued on warily.

The forest was inhospitable for anyone wanting to set up camp in it. This far north it was cold and untraveled so the underbrush was overgrown and trees tangled together. There were no clearings or openings for a camp or even a fire. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling of being followed.

_Ghost and Grey Wind would notice_, she thought suddenly. The realization made her relax. Dogs had great noses; direwolves' sense of smell was unimaginable. She would be warned of danger before she was even in peril. She continued to make her way through the forest, unsure of her destination but glad to be out in the fresh air.

Delylah wasn't sure how much longer she walked but it was a while before she realized the direwolves weren't checking on her any more. She was following the general direction they had gone but she hadn't seen one for a long time. She stopped walking, straining her ears for the noise of them running ahead of her. There was nothing. Silence pressed in on her from all sides. Her heart sank like a stone. She was alone.

Worried about the wolves, she turned and headed back the way she came. They had been out in the woods quite a ways but she was pretty sure she could get back to her horse. She chided herself for being so careless and letting the wolves out of her sight for too long. The thought also crossed her mind that no one knew where she was right then, besides the two direwolves, but she slammed it into a corner of her mind. She would be fine once she reached her horse.

A rustling sound caught her attention. She stopped and listened for a moment but there was nothing. "Ghost!" She called out, trying not to sound desperate. "Grey Wind. Here boys!" There was no reply, no sound but the chirping of birds from far off. Hesitantly, she started off again picking up speed as she went. Her hand brushed against the knife she kept at her waist; not much in way of protection, but it was still comforting.

She saw her horse up ahead, unharmed and alone. A low sigh of relief escaped her at the sight and she quickened her pace, anxious to be back riding. Before she reached the reins, a man stepped out from behind a tree and blocked her path, teeth bared in a self satisfied grin. " 'ello, poppet."

Her body tensed in anticipation for what might come next. Years of training would serve her well but she had to be ready to rely on more than just instinct. She didn't have a sword, only her knife, and this wasn't a practice ring. This was real life. She took a step back from him, but only to make sure she had her full weight distributed equally; she didn't want to be caught off balance.

"What do you want?" She demanded, trying not to let her voice shake. She tried to search inconspicuously for any other men this guy might have around but she saw none. It didn't mean they weren't hiding though.

The man before her was older, his hair and beard gray and grizzled. He had a wild look in his amber eyes and he never stopped smiling that grin that looked more like a growl than a friendly raise of the lips. He was lean but she could tell he was strong. His clothes were simple, torn rags and he didn't appear to have a weapon. His grin was creepy, however, and she wasn't about to let her guard down around him. He looked dangerous.

"I want yer 'orse and yer money." He took a step toward and grinned even wider. "An' yer blood spilt on these grounds." With a roar, another man burst from the brush on her right, coming at her with some sort of pointy object.

Delylah didn't have time to think or process what was going on. She leaned backward to avoid being skewered but by that time, grizzly man number one was rushing her. She managed to meet his rush with her hands but he was still stronger than her by far and he pushed her back into a tree. She felt the wind go out of her lungs but she couldn't let it slow her. Gasping for breath she reached for her knife as he stood and slapped her with a backhand.

Cheek stinging from the blow she unsheathed her knife and slashed at his face before his fist could find her. He cried out in pain and took a step back from her, enough that she could get a leg up and kick him away from her. She turned to run around him toward her horse when grizzly number two, the man with the sharp, pointy spear came at her again, this time with rage in his eyes.

She barely managed to sidestep the blow; her shirt was ripped on the side. She managed to get a foot out and trip the man, however but that brought her tumbling down with him. Her knife flew from her hand and she scrambled on her knees toward it. He got there first and without hesitation, swung her own knife at her. Instinctively her hands went up to protect her face; she yelped as the blade sliced through her left palm. She tried to retreat backward but he came at her again, the knife barely missing her leg. She felt her back bump into a tree and he was upon her before she could make a move to get away.

He grabbed her by the hair and yanked her head back, exposing her neck. The first man was off to the side rolling to his feet. "Kill 'er, Veryn, kill 'er." He screamed in anger, still trying to wipe blood from his eyes from where she had cut him. The man name Veryn looked down at her with cold, beady eyes. He drew the length of the blade across her cheekbone with a satisfied grin. Delylah ground her teeth together to keep from giving him the pleasure of her scream.

"Time to die," Veryn lowered his arm and she knew her throat was as good as slit. She closed her eyes, seeing her life play out before her, the life she should have had. Her marriage, her life, her children, growing old, and dying, all with the man she loved. A tear rolled down her cheek, stinging as it crossed the path the knife had just made.

But she wasn't dead. There was severe growling and a few yips and she was released, not dead. She tentatively opened her eyes to find both men very deceased and two direwolves looking at her in earnest. She blinked, unable to believe what had just happened. "Fine time for you two to show up." She muttered at the wolves, not ungratefully. The men were extremely mauled and she didn't want to look at them too closely. She just wanted to go home and forget any of this ever happened.

She moved to stand but groaned and sunk back to the ground. Her hand stung and her face burned but her side was on fire. She managed to look down at her torn shirt and saw why. The second man, Veryn, hadn't missed her with the spear after all. Her side was a bloody mess and with the shock wearing off the pain was kicking in. Whimpering, she cradled the wound, trying to stem the bleeding.

Delylah wasn't going to be able to sit there for days, waiting for someone to find her. She would bleed to death by morning, tomorrow afternoon if she were lucky. She had no choice but to get on her horse and ride home, no matter how painful. She pushed herself up, sliding her back up the tree, but only got halfway before she fell with another sad whimper. The pain would knock her unconscious before she got back home. She was stranded.

Grey Wind returned the whimper, moving over by her and nuzzling her neck with his forehead. She absently stroked him while Ghost came and lay on the other side of her. At least she would be warm with the two direwolves nearby. Too bad they hadn't chosen to protect her ten minutes sooner; she wouldn't be in this mess. She didn't really blame the wolves; she knew it was her own fault for riding off on her own.

She sat there a few minutes, holding her wound and hugging Grey Wind when it occurred to her why the wolves were with her in the first place. Jon and Robb and set them on her with the intent of watching over her. She had brought them with her because she knew they would tell the boys where she was when she left. That's what she needed now, the wolves to tell their masters where she was.

It was kind of silly but she knew these wolves were smart. She talked to Grey Wind like he was a person. She prayed he understood her words. He was just a wolf after all; even a direwolf couldn't understand human language, right? Still, she had to try. "Grey Wind, I need to you go find Robb. Go find Robb and Jon and bring them here." The wolf considered her with wise, amber eyes. He licked her face once then took off in the general direction of the castle. Ghost looked from her to Grey Wind's departure and back to her. He laid his head on her lap and settled in. He was going to stay.

The next few hours were long and blurry for Delylah. She drifted in and out of consciousness. She would have already frozen to death if it wasn't for the direwolf at her side. Every time Ghost lifted his head at a noise it startled her into alertness but it seemed as if most of it was just the wind. A light snow started to fall shortly after the night came. She could see bits of the moon through the trees but the forest canopy was too dense to let much light in. It was cold, dark, and lonesome. She was grateful Ghost had stayed.

His low growl alerted her to something different. She was unable to come to full consciousness but she was aware of voices shouting and torches lighting the way nearby. There was a brief moment she thought she might be attacked again but when Ghost stopped growling and began wagging his tail she knew Jon was near. She smiled in spite of herself.

"Lylah!" Jon's voice, loud in her face, snapped her into full attention. She blinked at him, wondering why he appeared so concerned. He had found her. His gloved hand came to her face, his thumb rubbing away some of the dried blood from her cheek. Oh yes, she probably looked a wreck.

"I'm okay," her throat was dry and the words were barely audible but he shook his head in response.

"You're not."

Robb was on the scene next. He was staring at the snow dusted corpses that weren't far from her. Worried blue eyes met hers. "You do know how to attract trouble." He quipped, squatting down on her other side. He saw the blood coming from her fingers where she held her side. He gently took her wrist. "Let me see."

She allowed him to pull her fingers away, grimacing at the sting the cold air created when it hit her open wound. Robb and Jon both winced. "Tough little thing, aren't ya?" Jon asked, pulling a bandage from his leather pouch at his hip. "Thought we might need this." It was too little to do much good but at least it stopped some of the bleeding and allowed her to stand without holding onto her injury. Both boys helped her up but then Jon scooped her up in his arms. "I've got her." He said, carrying her back the way they had come.

Delylah was lightheaded with blood loss and shock. She smiled up at him as he carried her back toward the edge of the forest. "Your wolves saved me." She told him.

He looked down at her but didn't return the smile. "It wasn't smart to come out here alone."

She frowned at that. "I wasn't alone. I was out here with Grey Wind and Ghost."

"They aren't people."

"I know. They're direwolves. They're good doggies." She didn't want to argue, she was just trying to tell him how good the wolves had been to her. Somehow, it was all coming out nonsense.

He looked down at her with concern. "Stop talking. You'll need your energy. We still have to ride home."

"You saved me." She whispered, cuddling into his chest.

"Grey Wind saved you." Jon corrected. "We wouldn't have found you for weeks without him." There was a titch of anger in his voice.

"See, this is why you have to stick around. To get me out of trouble. What would I have done if you were all the way up at The Wall?" Delylah pouted, aware enough to try and use this moment to her advantage.

"Robb is here. He would have done the same. I just picked you up first."

"You're avoiding the subject."

"You're supposed to stay quiet." He reminded her.

They were at the horses, Robb following them out of the woods with her horse in tow. Ghost and Grey Wind were at their masters' feet. Jory was there with a mixture of relief and alarm on his face. Jon handed her to him gently and helped situate her best he could on Jory's mount. It was going to be an uncomfortable ride back to Winterfell but at least she wouldn't fall off her horse. As she predicted, however, she finally passed out from the pain.

**A/N:** I know there's not a lot of the boys in this one but I really wanted to write about the wolves and a little bit of action. I appreciate all the reviews and comments. I actually haven't decided who she's ending up with, still. Every scenerio I see down the line ends up sad in one way or another. It is an AU so it's not going to follow the books (I'm halfway through the 1st one at the moment) or the show. I have some ideas that are less sad than others, we'll just have to wait and see where the characters take us. Thanks everyone for reading! :)


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Her sleep was dreamless. One minute she was riding on her father's horse, the next minute she was slowly coming to consciousness in a bed. Layer by layer, slow as cold molasses, she stripped away the levels of sleep, making her way toward wakefulness.

The first layer in which she was aware of what was going on around her, she heard a buzzing that sounded like voices. After a few moments that layer was peeled away and she could tell it was two distinct voices but their words were blurring together. Another layer away and she could tell she was curled up on her side in a bed she didn't recognize. Then she could put names to the voices; Robb and Jon. Almost fully awake now, she could tell they were arguing about something. Unable to keep herself from eavesdropping, she pretended she was still asleep.

"You're still going to go?" That was Robb, his voice irate.

"I have to. I promised Ben." Jon, his voice equal in anger.

"You're going to leave before she wakes up? Not even going to say goodbye?"

"She doesn't want to see me leave. It makes no difference if I go now or later, I'm not going to change my mind." Jon sounded as though he were trying to convince himself as much as he was Robb.

"She loves you." Robb's voice was strained as he spat the words out. "You're just going to leave her?"

"She deserves better than me, Stark. You know this." It sounded as though they had had this conversation before. "She deserves you."

"She doesn't want me." Robb's voice held a deadly edge that Delylah hated to hear directed toward his brother. "She chose you. Forget this folly with the Night Watch, man up, and stay here with her. She _deserves_ to be happy."

"She does _deserve_ to be happy. She won't be with _me_." She heard footsteps stomp out of the room and the slamming of a door.

Robb sighed heavily. She felt a hand brush a few locks of hair behind her ear then quiet footsteps, the open and close of the door, and then she knew she was alone. She blinked her eyes open and rolled over, frowning. The light through the window seemed bright and her face and side were sore but other than that she felt okay. She wiggled her toes and fingers; everything seemed to be in working order.

She was in a bedroom she didn't recognize in the castle. It was small but cozy, a fire burning low, an empty chair next to her bed, and a small wardrobe in the corner. There was a table with a wash basin near her and she tentatively swung her legs over the side of the bed, eager to wash her face. The sudden upward motion made the room spin and she almost fell out of the bed. She managed to fall backward instead and woozily climbed back under the covers. She could wait a few minutes to wash up.

The door opened and Maester Luwin entered backward, holding a large jug in his arms. When he turned into the room he nearly dropped it in surprise. "Lady Lylah, you're awake!"

"I'm not a lady, maester, you know this." Delylah struggled to sit up against her pillows. "But I am awake. How long was I asleep?"

"Only a day and a half. You slept hard and sound, however. Nothing seemed to stir you." He set the jug on the empty chair and came over, putting a hand on her forehead. "I feared you'd catch a fever but it seems I was mistaken." He smiled at her then. "Your father will be pleased you have awoke."

"Was it bad?" She looked down to where her wound was dressed. It was sore but not nearly as painful as it had been a day and a half ago in the woods.

"I've seen better, I've seen much, much worse." The maester assured her, turning back to his jug. He emptied some of the water into her wash basin and produced a clean cloth from his robes. "One more application of medicine and a bandage change and you should be set for a while." He soaked the cloth in the basin. "The medicine is in the water." He explained at her curious look.

Carefully and methodically he washed her wound on her side, her hand, and finally her face. He gave her a drink from a vial then re-bandaged her side, which didn't look at all as deadly as it had in the forest, and moved to clean up his things. Delylah chewed apprehensively on a fingernail and he tidied, wondering if she wanted to ask him the questions dancing in her head. She only had a moment before he left.

"Did my father come to visit me?" It wasn't the foremost question but she did want to know the answer.

Maester Luwin paused and looked to her. "Of course. Every couple hours, when he could steal away. He still has a very busy job as the captain of the guard. He sent men to scour the rest of the northern woods to make sure no other wildlings were about."

"They were wildlings?" Delylah's jaw dropped a bit in awe. Wildlings were the most feared people of the north, dangerous and deadly. That she faced off with two and lived to tell the tale was a miracle indeed.

"According to Master Robb and Master Jon. Your father sent men to double check the corpses and it was confirmed. You are very lucky to be alive, child." Maester Luwin's voice was gravely serious.

"They came and saved me." Delylah said hollowly, thinking how lucky she was that they even found her.

"They were fretting all evening when you didn't return. When Grey Wind showed up it was as though Master Robb knew you had sent him. The boys were on their horses and gone before Ser Jory even got his horse saddled proper. You are a very blessed child in more ways than one."

Delylah studied her hands, suddenly ashamed. She had caused a lot of trouble by going out on her own and almost got herself killed in the process. All because she wanted to escape a reality that couldn't be escaped. All because she couldn't face making a choice between her two best friends. She didn't deserve either of them.

As he gathered his jug of seasoned water, he looked at the empty chair and then back over to her downturned face. "Master Robb has sat in the chair every moment you were asleep until just an hour ago, when his father summoned him. He even slept here."

Confused, she looked up at Maester Luwin with wide eyes. "Robb did?" She asked faintly.

"Master Jon visited every hour, but he almost seemed embarrassed to be here. Yet Master Robb never left your side." The maester was making his way out the door then, leaving her to rest. "Just thought you should know." He added before disappearing down the hall.

Delylah sank into her pillows, numb from his words. Robb had stayed by her side the whole time and Jon visited constantly. She remembered the argument she overheard, finally taking a moment to process what had been said. Jon was still planning on leaving to join the Night Watch. Robb was trying to get him to stay with her. Jon didn't think he was good enough for her. Two and a half days and her near death experience and nothing had changed. Seven hells.

She desperately wanted to jump from her bed and go find that ungrateful Jon Snow. She would chain him to his bed if it made him stay in Winterfell and not go north with his uncle. Her limbs were feeling heavy, however, and it was taking all her energy to keep her eyelids from closing. Whatever had been in the vial Maester Luwin had given her was making her extremely drowsy. Before she could curse the maester for drugging her, her eyes were closed and she drifted off into another dreamless sleep.

"I don't know what to do." A whisper brought her to the surface of consciousness. Thinking she was dreaming, she didn't respond. "I thought I knew what was best. Now I'm not so sure."

It wasn't a dream. Someone was in her room with her, talking to her, even though she was asleep. The sun was gone and she could see stars out the open window. Despite the pitch black, she could see the outline of someone's head near her side; whomever it was had his chin resting on his hands, his arms crossed on the bed next to her.

He seemed to realize she was stirring. He lifted his head and bright spots that were his eyes searched for hers in the dark. "Lylah?"

"Jon." She replied, her voice a hoarse whisper. "What are you doing?"

One of his hands reached up to cover one of hers and he moved to sit on the side of the bed. "Talking."

"I was asleep."

"It's easier to talk to you that way. You don't argue as much." She hear the grin in his voice. She teasingly punched him with her free fist, returning the grin though he couldn't see it.

"What were we discussing?" She asked, pushing herself more upright in the bed. Her eyes were adjusting to the dark and she could make out the outlines of his face now. He was looking down at her hand in his.

"Me leaving tomorrow." He finally replied after a long silence.

"You're still doing that?" She asked, already knowing the answer. She didn't try to hide the disappointment in her voice.

"I think so."

Delylah felt a glimmer of hope in her heart at those words. That wasn't a definite yes. Maybe there was a chance to reason with him. "What was my response?"

She saw his gaze shift from their hands to her face. "You hated the idea. You told me I was leaving behind my friends and my one chance at happiness."

Delylah nodded. "I'm pretty smart like that," she whispered. He nodded as well but didn't reply. "Did I change your mind?" She asked at last.

She could see the crooked grin, even in the dark. "Maybe." He lied. Inhaling deeply he began tracing the back of her hand with his fingers, sending tingles of pleasure up her arm. "I want to stay, Lylah, I do." He pressed his lips together in determination before continuing on. "But I don't think my place is in Winterfell. I've always been on the edge here, not quite an outsider but not quite belonging. I think I need to go out and make my own way."

His words were preposterous. Men and their honor and their need to go prove themselves. Why they wanted to lead such a tortured existence was beyond her. Jon Snow was the figurehead of tormented fools who thought honor and reputation meant more than happiness. "You're a fool, Jon Snow." She sighed. Maybe it was the medicine, or the near death experience, or the fear of Jon leaving her, but in that moment she had to say what was in her heart. He would probably hate her for it. "Everything you could possibly want is right here, waiting for you. You're going to throw it all away to join an underappreciated team of warriors who have lived past their usefulness. Why you are blind to reality, I have no idea, but if you leave it will be the biggest regret of your life."

His hand closed around hers, squeezing tight automatically as his temper flared. "To join the Night Watch is an honor and a privilege. My uncle, Benjen Stark, is an unparalleled ranger of the north and-"

"And sad, and alone, and miserable." Delylah squeezed his hand back. Why couldn't he see? "I see it in his eyes, Jon. He might have honor in his job but he doesn't have joy in his heart. I can't bear to think of you with that same look, the same disappointment when you think about what might have been-"

"Enough." His word was cold and bitter. He dropped her hand and stood from her bedside. "Arguing is pointless. I've decided."

Delylah exhaled slowly in defeat. She could do no more than she had. Silent tears, springing from nowhere, slid down her cheeks. "Jon," She whispered, but had nothing more to say.

He hesitated, torn between leaving abruptly and comforting her in her sadness. In the end, he decided to lean down and set a gentle kiss on her forehead. "I'll miss you." He whispered into her ear before he backed away. She grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him back toward her, kissing him hard and long. He was startled at first but returned the kiss, one hand slipping behind her head to pull her closer to him. Her lips were salty with tears but the kiss was sweeter than any wine she had ever tasted. She gripped his shirt tighter, not wanting to let go.

She didn't know if it was seconds, minutes, or hours before he pulled away; time had stood still. Suddenly the heat of him was gone and the cool air of the night brushed her face. She opened her eyes to look at him but he was already backing away into the shadows. "Goodbye, Lylah." He said softly before slipping out the door.

The realization that that was their final moment together hit her like a stone wall toppling. Before she could stop herself, she burst into tears, sobbing herself into a sad, nightmare filled sleep.

**A/N:** It was sad writing this chapter. I hope it doesn't seem like Jon's a bad guy, he just has this twisted sense of honor and low self esteem, I feel bad for him. I just want to hug him and pet him and let him know it's all okay. He never listens to me. Anyway, he's gone for a chapter or two but he'll be back- I don't want anyone to stop reading because they think there'll be no more Jon. He'll be back, promise! Thanks for your reviews! Kisses!


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Delylah was restricted to her bed for another five days before Maester Luwin deemed her well enough to leave. Robb and her father were consistent visitors; even Arya, Bran, and Lord Stark himself came by to check on her from time to time. Robb was the one who informed her that Jon had left Winterfell with Benjen Stark. He delivered the news with a sadness in his inflection and eyes downcast. He was as disappointed as she to lose a friend but he also knew what Jon meant to her.

A week later she was out in the arena, early morning mist beginning to lift, hacking at a practice dummy with all her anger. She was mad at Jon, she was mad at Lady Stark, she was mad at Lord Stark for letting him leave. She was mad at herself for not saying the right things to make him stay. She channeled all her fury into every swing, ignoring the faint sprigs of pain shooting from her injured side and hand. She didn't care; she just wanted to destroy something.

"I think it's dead." The voice behind her startled her; she hit the dummy at a wrong angle, wrenching her wrist and dropping the sword with a quiet curse of pain. Holding her wrist she turned to see Robb walking toward her with a lazy smile.

"Not dead enough." Delylah replied, eyeing the practice dummy with contempt. She had been visualizing it as all the people she was mad at. It was pretty much damaged beyond all repair; the hay that stuffed it was mostly on the ground and the burlap was slashed in more places than she could count. Still, there were bits here and there that were good targets for her sword. She stooped to pick her weapon up, ignoring the pain in her wrist, and stabbed an uninjured spot.

Robb came up behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders, meaning to calm her. She whirled on him, careful to not bump him with the sword but she stepped back out of his reach. She didn't want to be babied or comforted right now. She was cathartically venting her anger and he was interrupting. "Don't." She warned.

He looked hurt at her words but nodded, crossing his arms. "Just checking on you."

"I'm fine." She spat, hating herself for being so vile with him. He didn't deserve it but she wasn't in the mood for him.

"You're not." It was a statement of fact, not an argument. With nothing to say to counter it she dropped her eyes shamefully, lowering her sword. The fight seemed to drain out of her with those two syllables from him. He was right; she was a mess.

"It's not fair." She complained, sounding as though she were three and not eighteen. "He wouldn't listen."

"Stubborn as a mule, my brother." Robb agreed. "Honor and duty above all else. You know we were raised that way."

"I also thought he had a brain in his head to make his own decisions." She sighed, finally able to look back up at him. "Decisions that made sense, at least."

"When has Jon Snow ever made a good decision on his own?" Robb chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. "He was always stealing sweets and you taking the blame for him. It was his brilliant idea for us to go hunting on our own two years ago, and you remember how that ended up." Robb had ended up with a severely wounded leg and the three of them had done extra chores for a month.

"What does it say about us that we went along with his schemes?" Delylah had to smile at the memories Robb was eliciting.

"We're just as bad as he is." Robb's grin was genuine; he was glad he'd been able to make her smile. He studied her face a moment. Delylah couldn't figure out for the life of her what was so fascinating until he reached up with a crooked finger and brushed her cheek. The wound was scabbed over from where the man in the woods had cut her. Last she looked in the mirror it was an ugly mar on her face.

"Oh, it's hideous." She tried to back away from his touch. "Maester Luwin says it will scar, but not deep."

"It's not bad." Robb looked from her cheek to her eyes. "It makes you look tough, like you are."

"Great, just what I want as a woman. To look tough." Secretly she was pleased at his words. He didn't seem to mind that the injury made her look like a gargoyle.

"You're not one of those delicate, fragile women from the south. You're from the north; you're strong. It's not something to be ashamed of." He ran his finger the length of the wound then dropped his hand. "It is kind of ugly right now, though." He added, a twinkle in his eye.

She slapped his leg with the flat of her sword, her jaw dropped in mock disbelief. "You'll pay for that," she promised.

"You'll have to catch me first." He was already backing up; at his words he took off in a sprint. Delylah dropped her sword and took off after him.

The following weeks were long and strange. Everybody tried to act as though nothing was different but Jon being gone left a huge hole in everyone's lives. Practices weren't the same, meals were different; every event that went on in the Keep was one person short. Even Robb and Delylah, whose lives changed the most, didn't realize how big a tear Jon Snow would leave behind him.

"He never gave me those riding lessons he promised." Bran complained, trying to skip a stone across the busy river. It didn't skip even once, just hit the water with a loud 'plop' and sank. Not deterred, Bran tried again. "I can't believe he left so quickly."

Arya was sitting by Bran, skipping her own rocks. She was better at it than he and was trying to demonstrate the proper way to hold his wrist so it hit the water just so. She looked over to where Delylah and Robb were lying on the picnic blanket. Robb was reading a book and Delylah was watching the children in case they fell in since they were so close to the river. She didn't seem to be paying full attention, though; her eyes were distant as she was lost in thought.

"Jeyne Poole and Sansa said you and Jon would probably marry." Arya called. "They always talked about girly things like that."

Delylah snapped out of her reverie and looked at Arya, speechless. She felt her cheeks warm in an unstoppable blush. "I-" She wasn't quite sure what to say about that.

"But with Jon gone," Arya was luckily continuing without help from Delylah. "That probably won't happen, right? He'll be like Uncle Ben, unable to have a family. Right?"

Delylah swallowed and nodded. She still couldn't find her voice.

"So who will you marry, Lylah?" Bran asked, looking up from the river.

Who indeed? Just when she might be moving past this whole thing and life getting on a somewhat routine track, the children had to bring this subject up unwittingly. Out of the mouth of babes, so the saying went. "That's not for you two to worry about. You shouldn't listen to Sansa's gossip, Arya. It's a dreadful pastime."

Arya looked over to Bran, wondering what it was they said to upset Delylah. Before anyone else could speak up, Nymeria, Summer, and Grey Wind bound into the clearing, tumbling and growling as they played. Summer had a rabbit in her mouth and was playing keep away from the other two. It was appalling and endearing at the same time.

"Ew, Nymeria, you don't want that! It's dead!" Arya stood up and tried to shoo her wolf away from Bran's. Summer took off back toward the Keep, Nymeria on his heels. The two younger kids giggled with delight. "We'll chase them home, Robb, okay?" Arya asked, already running.

"Straight home!" Robb warned as Bran took off after his sister and their direwolves. Grey Wind padded over and lay down next to his master, seemingly tired after his playful bout with his siblings.

Delylah lay back on the blanket, looking up into the sky. Today it was a pale, cold blue with puffy grey clouds. The breeze was slight but bitter. Colder days were on their way. She watched the clouds in an effort to chase away Arya's words. She was tired of thinking about Jon.

Robb set his book down and turned on his side next to her, watching her. She tried to ignore him but a piercing Robb Stark stare was hard to disregard. He leaned over and kissed her gently. She grasped the neck of his shirt and held him close, returning the kiss fervently. This was what they had been doing for the past week or so, stealing kisses where kisses could be stolen. She wasn't sure if she was doing it because she loved him or she was trying to replace the memories of Jon's lips on hers. Regardless, she enjoyed these moments fully whenever they arose. In her heart she knew it would cause nothing but trouble in the end but when Robb kissed her she didn't have to think, she could just be. It was comforting, not having to think, especially when most of the time she was pondering sad, wistful memories.

He finally managed to pull away from her a bit. He studied her face so seriously it made her uncomfortable. "What?" She finally asked, not meeting his eyes.

"Who _are_ you going to marry?" His tone was light and teasing but she knew there was more behind the question.

"No one. I will be a lonely old spinster with no family to speak of for the rest of my days." She dramatically drew the back of her wrist to her forehead, trying to keep the conversation a joke.

"That I doubt." There was a laugh behind his words but no more. He was suddenly serious again. "Marry me." He said after a moment. It wasn't really a question.

Her heart began pounding and butterflies let lose in her stomach. She was caught off guard though in her heart she knew this moment had been coming. It felt too soon for it to actualize and she was unprepared to answer. She was unsure how to react, what she was going to say, what to do. "What?"

"You heard me." Robb's voice had an edge to it but she couldn't put her finger on the emotion behind it. "I know I'm not your first choice, but…" He trailed off, letting her fill in the blank with her own thoughts.

He still wanted to be with her. After everything that was said about him being with a noble woman and her crushing his heart into a million pieces by saying she loved Jon, he still wanted her. She wasn't sure if she was happy or irritated. Yes, they had some stolen seconds of intimacy but nothing beyond a few kisses. She had been telling herself those times were more their way of coping with loss than actual relationship building moments. She had been lying to herself.

"I'm in love with your brother, your best friend. How can you ask me this?" She sat up on her elbows, causing him to lean back from her a bit. Again, she was in the position of making him realize his mistake. Why did he insist on making her hurt his feelings? "You know how I feel."

"Felt." He insisted, before continuing. "And my mother loved Brandon yet she wed Eddard. She grew to love him. You can't say there aren't two people in the Seven Kingdoms more in love than my parents." Robb pointed out.

"Brandon _died_."

"Jon's gone to take the black. He can't marry. There's not much difference."

"He's not _dead_." It was a flimsy argument. Robb had a good point on his hands. "And I'm not a lady. You can't marry me, even if you really wanted to."

"I _do_ really want to," Robb sat up, tucking his knees under him. Grey Wolf yawned and rolled over on his back but otherwise ignored the two of them. "My father consents. He says it will do the citizens of the north good to see their lord appreciates his people and can find happiness with one of their own. He says it will gain loyalties of the population and we will need that in the coming years."

"You've talked about this with your father?" Delylah felt light headed, as though a stiff breeze could blow her right over. She went over his words in her head. Squinting at him she added, "He consented to it?"

Robb nodded leaning forward to her, resting his weight on his fists on either side of her. He rested his forehead against hers. He smiled gently. She blinked uncertainly. "So I ask again. Delylah Cassel, will you marry me?"

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><p><strong>AN**: I would right more, but what a perfect place to end the chapter, hehe. I don't think there will be much surprise to her answer but I did want to give everyone a heads up that it might be 2 nights before the next chapter comes out. I know what direction I want the story to go in but I am debating on the speed. I think if I get things down on paper I can go back and fill in some details. Anyway, you probably don't care about that, but I've been pretty consistent with updates, I didn't want to throw anyone off if it takes me an extra day.

As always, thank you to all who take a moment to review. Every single one makes me smile and makes my day a little brighter. Also, they feed the muse, my friends, they feed the muse. Thank you!


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N:** Kind of a long author's note today, I apologize. First I want to say I usually reread the chapter before I post it to catch grammar and little errors. I didn't do that this time, so I apologize for any weirdness or anything that doesn't make sense. Please let me know and I can go back and clarify or fix. Thanks :) Secondly, I am usually one or two chapters ahead of what I post but yesterday I had really a really bad allergy day so I was full of Benadryl and Nyquil so I didn't do anything but sleep. So it might be another day before I post anything new again. Sorry for the delay.

Then I want to explain this chapter. The first part is actually Ned's POV because I felt the need to clarify why it would be okay for her to marry Robb despite all the protest about the nobility factor earlier on. Also this chapter is mostly to move the story on, I need to move things quickly so we can get to the next good part. If this was a real novel I'd probably write more details but it's fanfiction so I can do what I want, HA :) Anyway, we need to get Jon back in the picture and we will, eventually.

Anyhow, hope you enjoy it, for what little action is in it. Expository writing ftw.

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><p><span>Chapter 12<span>

It was to be a short engagement. As Delylah predicted, Catelyn Stark had quite a bit to say about the arrangement, none of it good. She fretted at her son, Eddard Stark's heir, marrying a common girl. She was even so bold as to suggest he take her as a mistress and still marry a lady, but Robb would hear none of it. He was told by his father he could make his own choosing of a wife before his twentieth birthday and he was doing so. Lord Stark backed his son's decision fully. Though Lady Stark made her protests known, it was of no use. Robb was going to marry Delylah before the new moon was full in the sky.

Eddard Stark was no fool. He had his reasons for allowing his son this marriage. He would like to say it was for the freedom of love and happiness but there was more to it. Robb was going to need the sympathies of his common people. There was a war brewing and the minor nobles in the lands from the north to the south were speaking of rebellion. With winter upon them, the talk would soon turn to action. Lord Stark recognized the signs and knew what had to be done, politically and strategically. He could join his house with another noble and secure one bannersman's house or he could secure many allies with a marriage to a commoner. The numbers gave him the answer.

It didn't hurt that Robb was in love with the girl. He remembered what it was like to be young and in love and he was glad his son was able to have everything he seemingly wanted. He was glad it was his captain of the guard's daughter, someone he could trust and someone he knew that would be a good match for his boy. He had heard about her choice of Jon first, another match he would have agreed with. But Jon had his father's stubbornness in his bones and had left to go his own path. That Robb still loved the girl enough to marry her was a blessing in disguise. He knew his wife hated the thought but Eddard was openly pleased with his son's decision. It would be satisfying to Robb and advantageous at the same time.

Eddard was the one pushing for a short engagement. He needed Robb to be at the head of the house quickly, before the year was out if all manner of luck held out. Eddard loved being Lord of Winterfell but he needed to teach as much to his son and let him have the reins with supervision as long as possible. He feared he'd be called away or out to battle soon enough. Robb was a smart and a valiant leader, but he needed more experience in charge. When he was married, officially a man, Eddard would pass the seat to his son. Robb would Lord Stark and Eddard simply his father; he would do whatever his son commanded of him.

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><p>The month previous to the wedding flew by in a blur of planning, arguing, and finally cooperation. Delylah had said yes to Robb's question by the river. That one little word changed everything about her life. Robb had taken her before his parents and announced the engagement to a pleased Lord and an unhappy Lady. Then they announced it to her parents who were both overjoyed at the news. The reaction they got from most people was congratulatory. Even Bran, Arya, and Sansa were excited for the two of them.<p>

She was no longer allowed to practice swordplay with the boys; she now had to act as a Lady of Winterfell. She regretted the loss but knew that Robb wouldn't deny her the opportunity to practice in the future if she wanted. For now, it was a sacrifice she was going to have to make.

Septa Mordane had the unenviable task of teaching Delylah all the etiquettes of court and being a noble in less than four weeks. Luckily the woman knew to just hit the highlights and hope the girl didn't get thrown any curve balls during the ceremony.

After Lady Stark finally relented to her husband, she threw herself full throttle into planning the event. Lords and Ladies from all over the north were invited, along with the entirety of Winterfell. Delylah was a symbol of the common people so they should have a place at the ceremony. Delylah's mother kept busy making her daughter's dress, letting Catelyn do most of the other planning. Delylah was stuck with her lessons, having no opportunities to help in the setting up of the event whatsoever.

She was also kept from Robb for most of the days. It seemed like the adults were steering them away from each other, as though the two weren't strong enough to keep from fits of lust pre-marriage. Delylah caught glimpses of him here and there but she didn't see him often. Except on the nights when they snuck down to the river to talk and laugh about all the fuss that was being made on their behalf. They were still the friends they were growing up and sneaking out had always been their forte. There moments by the water were brief but precious, convincing Delylah that she was doing the right thing by marrying Robb.

The first week after she had said yes she had been conflicted. She had been so ready to marry Jon that she felt she was betraying him by accepting Robb's proposal. Yet Jon had made his choice when he left Winterfell to go north. She had nothing to feel guilty about. She knew deep in her heart she loved Robb as much, if not more, than Jon. Gradually the guilt began to fade in the anticipation of becoming the new Lady Stark.

That made her stomach do jumping jacks in her belly. Lady Stark. She would have to be a _lady_. That was one thing she always liked about being common, not having to go through all the courtesies and responsibilities of being noble. Now she was going to have learn them in a crash course and there would be expectations of her behavior. The only thing that kept her going was focusing on Robb and those stolen moments together. The thought of him got her through it.

The wedding took place on a gorgeous autumn-like day. It was sunny but cool enough that guests were comfortable in their fancy clothes. Nobles and countrymen alike came from miles around to attend. The ceremony was beautiful; the chapel had been decorated with long curtains of white tulle and silver ribbons. Bunches of white daylilies and snow dahlias lined the walls and pews. Her dress, all hand sewn by her mother, was a breathtaking white with dainty silver embroidery. She felt like a princess and when she saw Robb in his dress armor, she knew she was marrying her prince.

The banquet after the ceremony was long and illustrious, the festivities going on long into the night. Everyone seemed genuinely happy for the couple; the two of them even seemed to win Catelyn Stark over. She seemed genuinely happy by the end of the night.

The first few months of married life were extremely different than the days before it. Catelyn now had the busy task of making Delylah a lady and teaching her how to run the day to day of the Keep. Delylah was a clumsy, slow learner when it came to the matters of etiquette and directing the staff, but Catelyn was a surprisingly patient teacher.

Robb, on the other hand, thrived in his father's tutelage of becoming the Lord of Winterfell. He'd already been training for most of his life so stepping into Eddard Stark's shoes wasn't a challenging proposition. Robb watched and learned eagerly from his father, advancing quickly in his knowledge and skills. Eddard hadn't shared his feelings with Robb about what the near future most likely held but Robb seemed to know it on his own. There was an urgency toward the lessons from both the teacher and the student.

One morning, months after the marriage, Delylah awoke slowly, lazily turning over to face her husband. Robb was lying on his side, head propped up on one elbow, a faraway look in his eyes as he looked down upon her. "Are you watching me sleep?" She asked, cocking an eyebrow at him.

"Indeed. You caught me." His smile was faint and half hearted. Unusual for him, even in the morning.

Delylah pursed her lips together in concern. As confused as she was in the beginning of her love story, she was happy as could be in her current situation. She loved Robb and he was an excellent husband to her. There was rarely a moment when he wasn't smiling or happy when near her, so for him to look so distant worried her. She also knew the best way to find out what was wrong with him was to just let him come to her; too many questions and he tended to shut down, needing silence to align his thoughts. This morning she waited patiently, watching him watch her.

"I was thinking about Jon." He finally sighed, laying on his back and resting a wrist on his forehead, worry in his voice.

"Still no word?" Delylah frowned. Six weeks after Jon left for the wall Winterfell had received word that Benjen Stark's caravan, including Jon Snow, had not made it to Castle Black on The Wall. Both the Night Watch and Winterfell had sent riders weekly to search for traces of them since but to no avail; it seemed as though Jon and his Uncle vanished off the earth completely.

Robb shook his head. "He's got to be somewhere though. I just know it. Jon, or Uncle Benjen for that matter, couldn't be taken down by highwaymen or a couple wildlings. It would take a large force to do harm to that particular caravan."

Delylah hated to think about Jon being dead. Like Robb, she refused to believe it. She felt like she would know in her heart if he were gone, taken from her in this life. Although she didn't feel that disconnect, she had to admit it had been a long while to have not heard any news.

Robb continued his meandering thoughts aloud. "We got word yesterday that Keenly Castle was sacked and razed." He let out a long breath, wearily. "That's the second castle this month."

The smaller holdfasts in the area were being hit by rebel bands, ones who didn't think the King should have district over the northern part of the country. She'd heard rumors that it was similar to the Greyjoy rebellion years ago but in stronger numbers. Nobles throughout the north were secretly backing the revolt in hopes of gaining their freedom from the Kingdom. This left Winterfell and the Starks right in the middle.

"That's a lot of people in their force, if Keenly was razed." Delylah rolled onto her side, looking down at Robb in a similar fashion that he had done to her moments ago. "That's one of the bigger castles of the north." She remembered that from something Lady Stark had told her recently.

"I know. People are scared. They don't know whose side to be on." Robb frowned; it looked weird on his face as he didn't do it very often. Delylah scooted closer to him, resting her head and a hand lightly on his chest. He brought his arm up around her and traced light circles on her back absently. "I don't blame them. This isn't a simple rebellion to be crushed. I fear war may be inevitable."

"Are you going to send for the King's army?"

"The King doesn't have a standing army, not really. He could send armies from Casterly Rock or the Riverlands but the number of forces that would come to our aid wouldn't be enough. Too many families like to keep out of things until a clear victor is apparent. Right now, there isn't one."

"But surely they'd send men to keep the kingdoms united." Delylah disagreed. She felt Rob shake his head.

"The rebellion wants the kingdoms divided up again. Rule under one leader is unfair to the providences farther away, according to them. It's become a popular idea amongst the noble houses, just quietly. Not many are confident enough to voice their opinions against the crown."

Something in his voice made her pause. She tilted her head up to look at him but he wouldn't meet her eyes; he was looking away from her. "And what is Lord Stark's opinion?" She asked softly, meaning him.

He didn't answer right away; she could tell he was choosing his words carefully. "I don't agree with the way the rebellion is doing things."

"But you don't disagree with their ideas." She tried to clarify.

"I won't stand against the crown." He said firmly, still not meeting her eyes.

"But you won't fight the rebels openly?" This was a question because at this point, she had no idea where he stood.

"If they bring the fight to Winterfell, I'll fight them." Robb looked at her then. "But until the King orders it, I'll not send my men to die in a battlefield not of my choosing."

Weighted words to be sure. She could tell he was having a hard time with this. He wanted to defend his King, his country, but at the same time she could see that a part of him wanted the Seven Kingdoms divided again as they once were. It wasn't the first time she heard him talk about it, and usually he talked about it with his father. It was a tough spot to be in, as Winterfell was supposed to be the guardian, the ruler of the north, upholding the King's justice while the King was in the capitol.

Not liking that the mood in their bedroom was full of doom and gloom, Delylah wanted to change the subject. She leaned up a little, resting her weight on her elbow below her. "If the fight does come to Winterfell, will I be allowed a sword to fight with? I would so like to practice those moves my uncle taught me growing up." She grinned wickedly, knowing his answer would be something to the negative. Now that she was a lady and married, she had less time to practice any sort of swordplay; not to mention to do so would be frowned upon by most civilized people.

He returned her grin with one of his own. "You could have one, but they'd have to get through two dozen men to get to you. If the fight comes here my family will be thoroughly guarded, I promise you." Delylah pouted playfully. With his free hand he brushed a few stray hairs out of her face and tucked them behind her ear. "I don't know what I'd do without you." He added, suddenly serious. He leaned down and gently kissed her. Her sarcastic reply died on her lips as the kiss became more urgent, insistent. She hoped they'd never have to find out, because she wasn't real positive what she'd do without him, either.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** I really like all my reviews, even simple ones, but it's very nice that some of you tell me what you liked and didn't like about the chapters. Thank all of you who take the time to review, I appreciate any feedback I get. Remember, reviews=love. :)


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N:** I wrote most of this before ep.8 aired and rereading it I think Robb's way wussier in my story than in the show. Although, I wasn't sure what I could do to change the actions here and still make the story do what I want it to do. That's why George R.R. Martin is a published author with a TV show and I'm just a lowly fanfiction writer. :) This chapter moves very fast and its intended this way, I hope it doesn't leave anyone confused.

Chapter 13

"Why am I going on this trip with you again?" Delylah looked from her grey mare being saddled to her husband already atop his chestnut horse.

"Because I'd be lonely without you." Robb grinned.

"Because your people need to see you out among them, concerned for their welfare." Ned Stark corrected. He was standing nearby, watching the two of them get ready to depart. "It's not far; it's a short, diplomatic visit. It's a good opportunity for you to be seen taking part in Lord Stark's decisions. People need to see their leaders out among them, taking the time to let them know their concerns are our concerns."

"And because I'd be lonely without you." Robb repeated, earning an annoyed look from his father and a pleased one from his wife. "Don't worry father, this is a formality at best. Lord Belkin is an honest man; I don't fear trade negotiations with him."

"These are hard times, Robb. Don't be so quick to trust." Eddard warned. "I hold Lord Belkin in high regard as well but in times of impending war people choose sides."

"I'll keep that in mind." Robb nodded, but he didn't appear worried.

Delylah was on her horse and ready to go minutes later. She had insisted on riding her own horse even after Septa Mordane, Catelyn Stark, and three other women from the household staff told her she needed to ride on a wagon or in a coach. It wasn't ladylike to ride across the lands on a horse. Delylah, on the other hand, would hear none of it and as the new Lady Stark, she got her way in the end. It would be faster this way, anyhow, and she wanted to get back to Winterfell as soon as she could.

It was half a year past since the wedding. Winter was indeed on them; it snowed daily and the temperature dropped significantly. They weren't in the heart of the season; things weren't bitter yet, but it was definitely winter. She already missed summer.

Politically, things were a terrible mess. King Robert did not send any armies north to quell the rebellion when it was smaller so now it had grown notably larger. Nobles were openly supporting the group now, funding and housing the rebels with open invitations. So far there had been no attacks or threats against Winterfell but the Starks found themselves in a curious position. They didn't fully disagree with the rebels' cause, though Ned was hesitant to speak out against his friend, the King. Still, when King Robert refused to send troops to the north to help, even Ned had to admit it was much easier to see the rebels' point.

There was no doubt the fight would come to Winterfell's doorstep, it was just a matter of time. The question was, when it came, would the Keep even put up a fight? Delylah knew the question kept Robb up all hours of the night. It was not an easy decision to make by any means and he was dreading having to be the one to do it. He was inheriting his place as Lord Stark at a very perilous time.

Today, however, was the beginning of what was supposed to be a relaxing trip; a vacation. Yes, Robb had some politics he had to deal with in Entryno with Lord Belkin but they were minor trading squabbles about prices of grain and chickens. He was positive it wouldn't take long at all and they could spend the rest of their visit relaxing away from the stress of Winterfell for a few days. That's what he told her, at least.

The ride would take a better part of a day but the road was safe and well traveled. They had five of Robb's personal guard along as a safety precaution but he didn't think they'd need them. Jory had insisted on five for the security of his daughter and Robb indulged him.

Entryno was a medium sized holdfast northwest of Winterfell, on the other side of the Wolfswood. It was exactly halfway between the coast and Winterfell. It was used as a major hub of trade for the towns on the western side of the northern province. Delylah had met Lord Belkin once, at the wedding. He was a round, boisterous, friendly man with a lot to say about everything. She vaguely remembered liking him as he didn't appear threatening in the least. She had met so many nobles that day, however, it was hard to keep them all straight in her head.

They rode into the city receiving many smiles and nods from the people around them. They had to ride near the busy marketplace. Delylah was anxious to go look through the stalls but they needed to clean up and attend to business first. This was another reason she wasn't pleased at being a Lady; rarely able to do what she wanted, when she wanted. Formality and etiquette first.

They were received immediately and asked to go straight to the Lord's hall. Robb, she, and their guardsmen were escorted up the long room, both sides lined with soldiers. Lord Belkin was in a chair behind a table, two of his advisors on either side of him and his personal guard behind him. The man greeted them with an enthusiastic smile.

"Welcome Lord and Lady Stark to our humble corner of the kingdom." Lord Belkin bellowed, the words echoing in the spacious hall. "It is such an honor to have to stay here, though I fear the reason you are here is to mediate a mere squabble. I am almost embarrassed that I called you here for such a small matter."

"Thank you, Lord Belkin, for your hospitality." Robb stood tall and straight during the formalities. "No matter of my people is too small for my attention. I am anxious to smooth matters over in a manner pleasing for all."

Lord Belkin nodded at Robb's words but something was off. The man seemed uptight and Delylah could swear he was sweating a little. His eye darted from Robb to the guards around them and then back to her husband. Something was wrong here, but she wasn't sure what. Everything seemed normal except for his extra twitchiness. Instinctively, she put a hand on Robb's arm, a warning that something felt suspicious.

Before anymore words were exchanged, every guard in the hall drew their swords in a deafening, simultaneous ring of steel. Every point was aimed at the Starks. Robb automatically drew his sword as well and stepped in front of her, shielding her from the immediate threat. She had no weapons to defend herself with but it would have hardly mattered, they were outnumbered by far.

Robb got past his initial shock and looked up to Lord Belkin who was now frowning unhappily. The Lord didn't make a move to dismiss his men or tell them to stop so they had to be acting under his authority. "What is the meaning of this?" Robb demanded.

"I am sorry, Robb." Lord Belkin addressed him commonly, his voice sorrowful. "They came a week ago, negotiated and made a lot of sense. They said if I could get you here I could keep my castle and lands."

"The rebellion?" Robb understood his meaning before Delylah. "You side against the throne?"

Belkin merely nodded in response, looking slightly ashamed. Robb was speechless, stunned that he had been so easily duped into being caught. "So I am here to die? You coerced me here to have me killed for the sake of the rebellion?"

The heavy man shook his head violently, holding his hands up in defense. "No, no, no, Lord Stark. The rebels don't want you dead. They want to talk. Negotiate." He smiled hesitantly. "Everything I told you wasn't a complete lie."

Delylah couldn't see Robb's face from behind him but she could picture it. A disgusted snarl, fire in his eyes, and the intense urge to condemn the man on his lips. He was not, however, in a position to say what was on his mind or kill the lord standing in front of him.

"If you would be so kind, Lord Stark, set your weapon on the floor and go peacefully. They have promised not to harm you if you cooperate. My guardsmen have been instructed the same."

"You let my wife go. She needs no part in this." Robb insisted. Delylah would be damned before she left his side but she didn't have time to voice it before Belkin replied.

"Sorry, Lord Stark, but instructions were to keep _both_ of you safe until their negotiator arrives." Lord Belkin looked anything but sorry. "So, please, put your weapon down and we can get this nasty business done without any bloodshed."

Robb hesitated a long time. Finally, slowly, he crouched down and set his beloved sword on the ground and pushed it over to the nearest guard. Before he stood fully again, the soldiers around them moved in a flurry of motion. The Stark guards were taken forcefully away by the majority of the Belkin men. Robb was grabbed roughly by two burly men and before she could protest, Delylah was taken gently by the arm by an older man. She was forced to follow the two men with Robb down a side corridor, down many stairs, and into a dungeon.

She closed her eyes and sighed when she saw the steel bar doors and dripping stone walls. Of course they wouldn't keep them in a nice room with a bed or some chairs and maybe a window. They might have to post a guard then and there was a possibility of escape. Down here they were out of everyone's way and could be forgotten about until they were needed. This was a nightmare.

She and Robb were thrown in separate cells across from one another. The men locked the cages and disappeared back the way they had come. Delylah kept her eyes on her husband in the cage across from her. He wouldn't meet her eyes; he simply turned and sank onto the floor, his head in his hands.

"Robb." She called, needing to see his eyes; for him to let her know everything was going to be okay. He didn't respond. This wasn't like him; the man she married wouldn't give up so easily, collapse to the ground in defeat. Something was terribly wrong.

"I should have fought back." He finally said, looking up but not at her. "I don't know why I didn't, I just couldn't find the fight in me." He sighed loudly. "Maybe I am a coward."

"You're not a coward, if you would have fought you would have died." Delylah insisted. "There were too many of them, we were caught off guard."

Robb shook his head. "That's not it. I still could have struggled on the way down here. It's just…" He trailed off.

Delylah sank to her knees, watching him. "You want to hear what they have to say." She surmised finally.

He did meet her eyes in that moment. He didn't say a word but she knew him well, he confirmed her words. "I should have at least fought to get you out of this. You shouldn't be here, in a dungeon."

"I should be here with you, that's all that's important. No one is dead; we need to keep it that way. Fighting right now will only cause unnecessary fatalities."

Robb didn't look convinced but he didn't protest either. She could tell his mind was working on overdrive, trying to come up with a way to salvage this debacle they had stumbled into unwittingly. When he was thinking, it was best to keep quiet and let him process.

Hours went by in silence. Robb was thinking but he was also furious with himself for getting her into this situation. Every thirty minutes or so they would have a brief conversation that consisted either of fighting, laughing, planning, or arguing. They were running a gambit of emotions; it was physically draining. Eventually, Delylah fell asleep on the cold stone floor, exhaustion taking over.

When she woke she could tell it was dark outside. The dungeon was even danker and colder than it had been when they were first brought down. Hugging herself, she stood, looking over at Robb in the cell across from her. It didn't even seem he had moved the whole time she slept. He was lost in his head, angrily glaring at his knees, absently picking at his pants.

A noise interrupted anything she was going to say to him. Footsteps were distinctly heard heading their direction. Robb stood and went to the bars on the door of his cell, trying to see who was coming. Delylah did the same. A guardsman, nondescript, appeared. He walked to Delylah's cell and began unlocking it.

"Sir, I am ready to speak with whoever it is I need to talk to." Robb began, trying to get the man's attention. "Belkin said something about a negotiator and I would like to see him right away."

The guard ignored Robb and came in Delylah's cell to grab her arm roughly. "Unhand my wife at once or I'll-"

"You'll what?" The guard sneered at Robb through the bars of the cage, hauling a very uncooperative Delylah along with him. "You're in there, I'm out here. You'll be doing a whole lot of nothing."

"If you hurt her-" Robb seethed, furiously shaking the bars.

"I ain't gonna hurt her," the man scoffed, dragging her away. "Commander wants to talk to her is all."

Delylah felt helpless in the man's iron grip. She hated feeling helpless. She wanted to stomp on his foot or scratch at his eyes or wrench away from his hand but he held in her in way that prevented her from doing anything but stumble along with him where ever he was taking her. It was unfair that men had such strength advantage.

He took her upstairs to the hall where they had been captured. It was now empty. He pulled her across the room and into another corridor that led to a set of stairs that went upward. He went up two flights of stairs and down another hallway that was lined with doors. He stopped at the far end, the last door on the left, and pushed it open. Hauling her inside he finally let her go, shoving her forward so she lost her footing and fell to the ground on all fours.

Humiliated, she squared her jaw, trying to regain some composure. She could hear someone moving around in front of her but she hadn't looked up yet. "Leave us." The person demanded vehemently and she could hear the guard shuffle out and close the door.

Delylah took deep breaths to calm herself. She wasn't sure if she was scared or infuriated but either way her blood was pumping fast and adrenaline had her senses tingling. She could tell the man in front of her was kneeling before her. She was ready to do what she could to get away from him; scream, punch, kick, pull hair- whatever it took.

A gloved hand reached out, tucking under her chin. With gentleness she didn't expect, he tilted her head back and she came face to face with her captor.

**A/N:** Dun, dun, dun.

Yes, my story is AU so I'm doing my own thing with it. For clarification, the Starks do agree with the seperation of the 7 Kingdoms but Ned has a loyality/honor issue that he's passed on to his son. Honor says to defend the king, their heads and hearts want nothing to do with the king. It's a conflict of the soul to be sure.

Next chapter: The return of Jon Snow!


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N:** Just this week I got my sister interested in GoT. She read my story and, probably like many of you, wanted more of the romance in some of the scenes. I am just not very good at detailed, kissy face, emotional scenes. Luckily, those are her specialty. So if you want to see some extended scenes of this story, check out Just A Little Too Late by M.S. Fisher- that's my sis. I liked it a lot, she has earned my seal of approval. She will be writing more short scenes eventually, so keep an eye out for those.

Chapter 14

Delylah felt her heart drop to her toes and her breath catch in her chest. She must have stopped breathing because a moment later she was gasping for air. She rocked backward, away from the man in front of her. This had to be some sort of trick.

"Lady Stark," he said in a quiet, rough whisper. She blinked slowly, trying to believe her eyes.

Finally, she found her voice. "Jon," she replied, her voice barely audible. She couldn't think of any more to say, her head was numb making her thoughts fuzzy.

He was kneeling before her, his eyes down at her level. He looked almost no different from when he left nearly eight months ago. He was peering at her with concern, his brow etched with worry. "Have they hurt you?"He asked quietly.

She shook her head, brows drawing together as her thoughts became more coherent. "No," she started, then immediately added, "What in seven hells are you doing here? Where have you been?"

Jon's look of anxiety froze on his face then slowly changed to one of apathy. It was a mask, a new look for him. Jon had always had many emotions that clearly showed on his face. In his time away he had learned how to conceal his feelings from showing plainly. She didn't like it.

"I am here on business." He replied in a clipped tone. He stood, offering her a hand to help her to her feet. Not knowing what else to do, she accepted it and he helped her stand. He held her hand a moment longer than he had to but his face betrayed nothing more than passing interest. "I'm here to talk with Robb."

Delylah stared at him a moment, giving him a contemplative look. "About what?" she asked suspiciously.

He turned away from her and walked farther into the room. "He shouldn't have brought you."

Delylah marched toward him and grasped his shoulder, turning him to face her. Her eyes were bright with sudden anger. "_You're_ the negotiator? You're the one who had us taken and thrown in the dungeon?"

He didn't try to get out of her grasp, but he did look at her hand on his shoulder with impatience. "I didn't tell them to throw you in the dungeon. I just told them to keep Robb safe until I arrived. The dungeon was Lord Belkin's own doing." He shrugged away from her. "_You_ weren't supposed be here."

"Are you in charge of this rebellion?" Delylah demanded, standing her ground, ignoring his comment about her not being part of the plan for the second time.

"The rebellion started before I left for Castle Black." He pointed out, turning away from her again, heading for a desk across the room.

"Doesn't mean you're not in charge now." She countered, following him.

"I am not in charge, no. But I am a commander of sorts."

"So this is how you use your leadership abilities? The training my uncle and father gave you? To sack towns and cause chaos? To start a war?"

He whirled on her then. She had been inches behind him so when he turned their faces were a breath apart. There was no love in the moment; heated, passionate anger filled both their eyes as they glared at each other in anger and defiance. "I use my abilities to bring freedom to the northern people. King Robert sits on a throne in the south and cares nothing about his people in the north."

"Your methods are less than honorable." Delylah seethed, thinking about the cities she had heard about that had been devastated by the rebellion.

"Sometimes the ends justify the means." Jon's anger was equally palpable. "When the kingdom splits, the group you call rebels will be known as heroes."

"Is that what you want, Jon? To be a hero?" Delylah was fuming. Here she had been thinking her best friend, the man she thought she loved, had been captured and tortured, or worse yet murdered; all along he had been in command of the group of people that was keeping her husband up at night. She wanted to hug him for missing him; she wanted to gouge his eyes out for what he was doing.

"It's not about being a hero." A little fight left him as he replied. He stood up tall, taking a small step away from her. "It's about what's right."

Delylah bit her bottom lip to stop herself from continuing to berate him. Robb himself wasn't fully sided with the King; he had his days when he wanted to join the rebellion. It was a matter of honor verses belief with him; he truly believed the Seven Kingdoms should be independent providences but he was honor bound to serve the King.

Jon didn't have the chains of honor and duty holding him back. He had been free to choose whichever side he wanted. Yet she was still surprised he would side against his own brother. Robb and Jon had been best friends their whole lives. She never thought she'd see the day when they would stand on opposite sides.

"Why?" She looked at him with helpless eyes, trying to understand what was going on. Everything seemed surreal, as though she were in a dream. She willed herself to wake up; maybe she was lying by the river, asleep, in a nightmare. Jon and Robb would be dueling near the blanket, Grey Wolf and Ghost would be lying nearby, rolling in the grass, and she would be lying in the sun, asleep. Everything would be back to the way it was.

After a few blinks, she let the hope go. This was reality.

Jon seemed to know what she was asking. He looked down at his scuffed leather boots and leaned against the desk. "Our caravan was attacked on the way to The Wall. They wanted our supplies but when they saw how good of swordsmen Uncle Benjen and I were, they took us prisoner. They talked to us for days on end, fed and treated us well. Ben was the first to agree to join the cause. After Mayson swore to me that they wouldn't attack Winterfell, I agreed as well."

"Mayson?"

"Mayson Beari. He's the leader, the one in charge of the rebellion. He's the one who started it all." Jon looked less than pleased at mentioning the man's name. "He's a shrewd old man who'd as soon stab you as look at you, but he is honorable about his word."

Delylah wasn't sure what to think. It was all so sudden, so confusing. She wanted to be happy at seeing Jon again but seeing him here, like this, was less than ideal. "What about Robb?"

Jon looked up at her, his eyes snapping to hers. "What about him?"

"He's down in the dungeon still. He'll want to know that you're alive, that you're okay." Delylah told him. "He'll want out of that cell."

Jon chewed his bottom lip but didn't answer her right away. "Jon." She looked at him pointedly. "You can't keep him down there. He's your _brother_."

He sighed, long and loud. "I know."

"Is there a problem?"

"Yes."

She waited for him to elaborate. He simply stared at her. "What?" She finally asked.

"You."

Silence. The two friends watched each other intently. Delylah opened her mouth to reply then snapped it shut when no words came out. Jon watched her with a slightly bemused, slightly worried expression. After a few moments he took a deep breath and looked away from her.

"I told Lord Belkin to get Robb here. I negotiated with Mayson to save one life. He seems to want to send a message to Winterfell. He can't attack them directly because of his promise to me but he does want to make the Starks choose one side or another. I convinced him that if we could get ahold of Robb and sway him, Winterfell would stand behind him, along with the bannermen of the north. Mayson just wanted to kill him." Jon sighed, looking back to her. "I got him to agree to take Robb as a prisoner, much like myself in the beginning. But now," he trailed off, exhaling slowly.

"What? Robb is here, he'll listen." Delylah replied, not seeing the complication.

"I know Mayson Beari too well. If he sees that we have you he'll kill Robb and hold you hostage until Winterfell yields to his cause. Women are better tokens to keep than men, in his eyes."

"But Robb will agree with your cause. He already does. If you just talk with him, he won't be difficult to persuade-"

Jon was already shaking his head when he cut her off. "It won't matter. I know Mayson. He'll kill him just to say he did it."

"You said you talked him into taking Robb as a prisoner-"

"I got him to agree to take _**a**_ prisoner. You're a better prospect to him than Robb, trust me."

"Robb is Lord Stark of Winterfell, surely-"

"Why are you arguing with me?" Jon stood suddenly, his anger flaring. "You don't know the man. He is twisted and evil in ways you can't imagine. I work for him only because his _cause_ is just. I don't always agree with his methods but I don't dare cross him either. He _will_ kill Robb tomorrow when he gets here, if both of you are still here."

Something about his words made her pause. She considered him a moment, replaying his words in her head. "If?" she asked at last.

He frowned at her and turned away, walking around the desk to the other side. He sat heavily in the chair and rested his head in his hand. He suddenly looked very tired and worn. "If." He repeated. He rubbed the bridge of his nose with his free hand.

"You have a plan?" Delylah was hoping.

"Not a very good one."

* * *

><p>Jon's plan was sketchy at best. He was going to let them go but he had to do it without any of his or Belkin's guards knowing about it. There was a side entrance to the castle that may or may not be guarded. They wouldn't have horses but they would be free and hopefully able to get back to Winterfell. Jon warned that Winterfell would probably not be safe from attack after this but Delylah thought it was worth the risk to save her husband's life.<p>

Jon escorted her back to the dungeon. She imagined the look on Robb's face was what her own had looked like earlier when she first saw Jon. Shock, awe, happiness, and confusion. It was quite a sight to behold. "Jon?"

"Yes, brother. There is no time to talk, however. We must move quickly and quietly." Jon unlocked Robb's cell. Delylah rushed in and crushed him in a hug. He had time to kiss her forehead before Jon urged them to hurry.

They followed Jon through the castle, avoiding patrols and sticking to shadows. Jon explained best he could to Robb in hushed whispers about what was going on and the plan for their escape. Robb wanted to stay and fight Mayson with Jon by his side but Jon refused. The numbers outweighed the bravado and finally Robb assented to the plan. He would head back to Winterfell and prepare his people for the upcoming fight that would be brought to their doorstep. He could also go back and decide to side with the rebellion instead of fighting it. That was a decision to be made at a later time, not when they were in the middle of trying to escape with their lives.

The side door was not well guarded and the three slipped outside easily. The hard part was going to be getting out of the city walls and into the forest without being seen. They slipped down dark alleys and dim streets, easily avoiding the very few guardsmen that passed by. Near the double gated entrance to the city they hid around a corner and Jon looked out to scout their exit.

"The patrol is just about to pass. You'll have a few minutes to get to the woods after they're gone, but not long." Jon whispered, watching the guards like a hawk.

"Jon, look," Robb pointed to the next street over. Riders must have just gone into the pub that was still open because there were two chargers patiently waiting by the door, their reins tied to a post. A groom was walking a third horse toward the stables.

"That's risky." Jon hesitated, looking from the patrol leaving to the open gate and finally at the horses. "But you'll be a lot faster." He was debating on the worth of the risk.

"I'm going." Robb was off before Jon could protest. He and Delylah could only follow. Robb untied the horses quickly and led them toward the now clear gate. He climbed into the saddle of one while Jon helped Delylah in the saddle of the other.

"Come with us." Delylah said suddenly, looking down at Jon. "Back to Winterfell."

Jon hesitated a moment before shaking his head. "My place is here now."

"But-"

"Lylah, we have to go," Robb insisted, turning his horse and heading out of the gate.

Delylah didn't want to leave Jon. She had a horrible feeling that he was going to be in huge trouble for letting them escape. If it was found out he helped them he'd probably lose his life. She watched Robb leaving, his horse picking up speed out of the gate. Her husband looked back to make sure she was following. He pulled up, turning the horse around, when he saw her still by Jon.

"Go." Jon was adamant, his eyes desperate.

"Jon," She was torn. She knew she needed to follow her husband to safety but she couldn't leave her friend. "You need to come home."

He stared at her a full minute. She thought that maybe he was finally listening to her, that he was seeing how wrong he had been to leave and now it was time to come back to Winterfell. She felt a glimmer of hope.

A shout nearby startled both of them. His expression hardened causing hers to fall. "Goodbye, Lylah." There was commotion coming their way, guards trying to cut off their escape. Jon smacked the back of her horse, sending the charger leaping forward and off toward Robb's. She held on for dear life.

Arrows began whizzing by her as she caught up to Robb. He turned on his mount and headed for the forest. She was right behind him when her horse spooked, rearing back. Delylah managed to hand on, but just barely. As she struggled for control of the horse, Robb noticed she wasn't nearby; he stopped his horse and waited for her.

But the horse wouldn't be calmed or heed her commands. Without warning an arrow pierced the horse's flank the charger threw her off and onto the hard ground. She rolled to avoid being stomped by the wild animal that now seemed intent on killing her. Crawling away, she noticed guardsmen only a few yards away from her and closing fast.

Robb was coming back to her. She knew they would both be caught if he tried to save her. "No! Robb, go!"

"I won't leave you." He called to her, closing fast, but not fast enough.

"You have to! They'll kill you."

Arrows were still flying; some perilously close to Robb's horse. The charger did some sidesteps, slowing its gait. It didn't want to come back into the range of the archers. She could tell, even from this distance, that her husband's eyes were desperate. "I won't." He repeated.

"Jon can protect me, he can't protect us both." The guards were almost on her now. Her wounded horse had taken off and in the fall she had twisted an ankle so she couldn't stand. "Go, please." She pleaded with him. She didn't want to see her husband killed before her very eyes. "I can't live if you die."

Looking very much like he'd rather die saving her, Robb hesitated a moment more. Cursing the gods he finally took off toward the woods as the guardsmen grabbed her roughly by the arms, forcing her to stand. She cried out in pain and took her weight off her injured foot, leaning heavily on one of the men. He shoved her off of him but she couldn't support her weight. She collapsed to the ground in a heap at their feet.

"At least the pretty one didn't escape." She heard one man chuckle gruffly. Delylah felt ill to her stomach. Robb was gone and she was once again a prisoner. She heard hoof beats and looked up to see some of Lord Belkin's guard on horseback, taking off after Robb. She was glad he had a head start but it wasn't much of one. If he didn't get away she would never forgive herself.

"Stand up!" One of the men pulled her too her feet roughly. Her ankle throbbed but now she could put delicate weight on it. The man had an iron grip on her upper arm and was hauling her back toward Entryno.

"Stop." It was a familiar voice. Delylah looked up to find Jon Snow blocking the path of the guardsmen.

"She was escaping." One of the men told him.

"I know." Jon's look was impassive. "She's my prisoner, I'll take her. You three need to go after the other one."

The men didn't pause. The one holding her shoved her toward him and he deftly caught her by the arms as she stumbled. The guards disappeared into the night in the direction of the woods.

Delylah looked to Jon with worry. "What if they find him?"

"They won't." Jon's jaw was set with determination. He spoke as if he were convincing himself as well as her. "Robb's too smart for them. He made it to the woods; he'll be a ghost in there. He'll make it home."

"He didn't want to leave me." Delylah felt tears stinging her eyes as the realization of everything that happened today began to fall on her.

Jon sighed and began walking her back toward the castle. "I know. I'm glad he did. They wouldn't have let him live."

"He's a noble. A _Stark_. They can't just kill him."

"This is a rebellion. They can do what they want." Jon reminded her, grinding his teeth in irritation.

At the castle gate they were stopped by more guardsmen. Jon gave them commands to keep watch and sent a few more men out after Robb. The guards didn't hesitate in their orders. They took off to the stables to find their horses. Jon was already dragging her by her wrist back toward the castle, not paying attention to the fact that she was limping to keep up. "Stupid, stupid, stupid." He kept repeating the word under his breath. She wasn't sure if he meant himself or the guards, but either way she knew that this wasn't going according to the plan.

"How are you going to say he escaped?" Delylah asked, worried that both their lives now hung in the balance.

"I don't know." Jon replied. It seemed he was hauling her back toward the room she had met him in earlier.

"But what if they catch him?" She couldn't shake the feeling of worry over Robb's life.

"They won't." he repeated.

"But what-"

"Stop talking." Jon stopped long enough to glare at her. He continued on, shoving her into his room ahead of him. He took her by the arms and moved her to chair by the desk where he sat her down. "Stay there." He commanded. He began pacing anxiously, mumbling to himself in words that Delylah couldn't make out. She strained to listen but he spoke too quiet and muffled.

"Jon." She finally said, frustrated. "We have to figure out what we're going to say."

"You're going to say nothing. When I brought you here to question you, you stole my key. You freed yourself and your husband. You were caught in the open field, your horse wounded. My brother was faster and already gone by the time you fell. That's the story, you just agree with whatever I say with a nod if asked. Don't speak; it will only get you in trouble."

Before Delylah could respond there was a knock on the door. Jon froze in place and looked up at her, his dark eyes wide. The knock came again, louder and more insistent. Jon swallowed, took a deep breath and walked to the door. He opened it, holding an arm out to welcome whoever was on the other side in. "Mayson. You're early." With a wary look at Delylah he managed to add tightly. "Good."

**A/N**: And you thought it was going to be happily ever after Robb/Delylah fluff for the rest of the story. No way! Jon/Delylah angst to come! :)

Also, check out Ser Orange's Black and Gold for a good, descriptive read. Great author, great story!

Thanks for any reviews, you are the moons of my life. :)


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N:** Sorry for the long time between updates. Work has been crazy and finding time has been difficult. Hopefully it will be worth the wait!

Chapter 15

Whatever she had pictured Mayson as, in actuality, he was nothing like she had imagined. She figured he'd be a fierce warrior with grey hair and whiskers, a permanent scowl on his face or a grizzled elder, maester like, with shrewd eyes and a condescending sneer. Mayson was neither of these things. Delylah did a double take when Jon stepped back and the rebellion leader walked in.

He held his stature like a prince and commanded attention by his mere presence. He was tall, taller than Jon by many inches. He had dark, straight hair that fell to his shoulders; it shone like silk in the candlelight. He was lean and muscled, dressed in a rich red velvet doublet with gold embroidery. He was young, most likely in his late twenties, much younger than she had anticipated. His face was handsome, his nose a bit long but straight, his green eyes visible from across the room, his mouth curved in perfect form. If you saw Mayson Beari on the street you'd think he was a rich lord, maybe even a king. He didn't look the sort to be a merciless leader, like Jon claimed.

Mayson was not smiling when he entered. He glared at Delylah with passing interest then turned on Jon. "What's this I hear of escaped prisoners?"

Jon stood up straight but to his credit he didn't look intimidated by Mayson's imposing figure. "Robb Stark got loose and away."

Mayson stepped closer to Jon, right up into his face. Delylah couldn't see his expression but his words were edged with ice. "I thought you said he'd become our ally."

Jon never flinched. He looked at Mayson with barely controlled anger. "He would have if your Lord Belkin hadn't shut him in a dungeon. They thought they were prisoners so they attempted escape."

"Attempted and succeeded, if I'm not mistaken." Mayson stepped away from Jon and turned back toward Delylah. His eyes fixed on her now with interest. "This must be who you mean by using the term 'they'." He began walking toward her, lithe as a panther in his steps. He smiled at her but the expression was cold. Delylah held back a shudder and pressed her lips together, remembering that Jon had told her not to speak. "Who are you, my sweet?"

Jon stepped forward, pushing past Mayson and standing next to her at the desk. "This is Lady Stark, Robb Stark's wife. She didn't make it away with her husband."

Mayson didn't look away while Jon spoke. He didn't look surprised when Jon named her, as if he were expecting no less. Delylah found she couldn't break eye contact with him. He scared her to death. "Your brother's wife." He stated simply.

"A hostage. We now have the one thing that will guarantee Winterfell's cooperation."

Mayson's eyes snapped to Jon. "I thought you said Robb Stark was the guarantee to Winterfell's cooperation." He challenged, the heat of anger in his voice.

Jon never missed a beat. "He would have agreed eventually with negotiation. With her we don't need negotiation; we just trade her life for Winterfell's allegiance. On our terms."

Mayson stared at him a moment, weighing his words. Delylah held her breath, knowing her life was now in the balance. If he agreed with Jon, all will be well. If he didn't agree she didn't hold out much hope for him wanting to keep her alive. He looked back at her and she tried to appear indifferent though she knew she couldn't keep the fear from her eyes.

"Fine." Mayson said after what seemed like an eternity. Delylah exhaled and if she wasn't mistaken she could see Jon do the same out of the corner of her eye. Her life was safe for now. "The boys need some amusement anyhow. Take her to the barracks so they can have some fun with her."

Delylah's eyes grew wide as saucers as she realized what he was saying. She automatically stood to protest but Jon beat her to it. "Mayson, she's a lady, our hostage, not a slave. You can't just throw her to the men, they'll leave nothing left of her."

Mayson was already halfway out of the room. He whirled around and was back in Jon's face in the blink of an eye. This time she could see his expression and his green eyes burned with rage. "Don't defy me, _boy_. You're already on my bad side for losing a prisoner; do _not_ argue with me about what to do with this one. Lady or no, she is going to the men for amusement, alliances be damned. When the Starks agree to side with us, she's dead anyway."

Delylah swallowed the bile that was suddenly rising in the back of her throat with an audible gulp. There had been moments in her life when she'd been scared; the time she and Jon and Robb fought the bandits, the time she had almost drown in the river, and the time she was attacked by wildlings in the Wolfswood. Despite all those times she'd been scared for her life previously, this was the first time she'd ever been terrified.

Mayson turned again, less dramatic this time, and began toward the door. When his hand hit the handle Jon spoke up, causing Mayson to freeze.

"I'll claim her."

Mayson turned slowly this time, his head tilted as though he hadn't quite heard Jon correctly. "You'll what?"

"Claim her." Jon cleared his throat and spoke louder. "I claim her."

Mayson stared as his defying commander with a mixture of contempt and respect. He looked as though he wanted to protest but instead he spat out, "You have that right." He looked from her, to Jon, back to her. "Your brother's wife, Snow." He reminded him.

"I'm aware of that." Jon's voice was as strong as it had been previously. Delylah had no idea what was going on but she knew whatever Jon was doing was protecting her from being 'thrown to the men.' She wanted to hug him but she had to wait for Mayson to leave.

"If I find out this is a farce," Mayson warned.

"It's not. You know I wouldn't lie to you, Mayson."

Mayson seemed less than satisfied with that answer but grunted his agreement. With one last contemptuous glare at both of them he turned and left the room with a dramatic door slam. Silence rang for minutes before Delylah even dared to breathe again. She looked up at Jon who was still watching the door.

"What was that?" she finally managed to ask.

He looked down at her. "I was saving your life." His dark grey eyes looked distant.

"I understand that, but what does it mean? You claim me?"

Jon sighed and turned away from her, walking toward the bed in the room. "It means that you're not going to be sent to the barracks with a bunch of drunk and lonely men."

Delylah stood and crossed her arms. Now that Mayson was gone she felt more comfortable and remembered that this was still Jon Snow, her friend since memory could recall. "You're being deliberately evasive." She accused.

He looked at her over his shoulder, a hint of smile on his features. "I am." He agreed.

With an unladylike growl of frustration she stomped over to him as he sat on the bed and began taking off his boots. "Jon Snow, explain yourself."

Jon looked at her with a bemused expression. "Pretty demanding now that you're a 'lady'."

"I've always been demanding, you know that. Stop trying to divert my attention and explain." She sat on the bed next to him, her arms still crossed in a show of seriousness.

Jon took a deep breath and gave her a sideways look out of the corner of his eye. He knew he wasn't going to be able to sway her so he might as well tell her. "The rebellion has rules. Not many, but a few. We don't kill children, we don't attack villages that aren't approved by Mayson, and every man gets one claimed woman that can't be touched by anyone else in the rebellion."

Delylah looked perplexed. "So every man can have any amount of women he wants, but every man has a right to 'claim' one woman so the rest don't defile her." She tried to reason it out but it wasn't making much sense to her.

Jon frowned at her words. "Not exactly. Most men claim their wife, especially if they already have a wife. That way the rebellion can't hurt her, even if the man's town is one that's under siege. All women must be brought to a commander so he can determine if she'd been claimed or not. Then the men who don't have a claim on a woman have the right to claim her. If she remains unclaimed, she's taken as a slave or a worker for the cause."

Delylah made a face. "That's horrible. What a terrible way to treat people."

Jon nodded. "I agree. Mayson says it's the best way to keep the men happy, however, and so far he hasn't been mistaken. I make sure any woman that comes before me and goes unclaimed gets some sort of job or is sent to a town to work for the rebellion. I hate the fact that some become slaves, but none of that is by my hand."

"Jon, this rebellion you've gotten tied into is dangerous and morally wrong." Delylah shook her head. "Worthwhile cause or not, Mayson's methods are barbaric."

"I don't disagree with you." Jon exhaled slowly. "But at the same time I know that there are only small parts of this group that are doing the evil things. Most commanders are like me or my uncle; they don't do the morally wrong things Mayson would have us all do. The majority of the rebellion is good at heart."

"The ends justify the means." Delylah recited his own words back to him. He only nodded. They sat on the end of the bed in silence for a few moments, each lost in their own heads. A thought struck her from nowhere and she turned to him sharply. "So you claim me, does that mean I'm like your wife? Like we have to do things, like I'm your wife?" Robb's face flashed through her mind and she suddenly felt sick to her stomach.

Jon's cheeks flushed pink and he wouldn't meet her eye. "I'd like to say no but technically, yes. The claim isn't official until we….consummate the relationship."

Delylah's eyes grew wide as she stared at him in disbelief. "I'm married!" She protested, her voice high and squeaky with indignation and embarrassment. "Surely they can't think we would…not when I'm married to…" She left Robb's name unsaid, both of them very much feeling his presence in the room.

Jon held up his hands, warding off her protests. "I don't intend to do anything, Lylah. You asked, I answered."

"But, but," she blinked a few times, processing his words slowly. "You don't intend to do anything." She repeated slowly, suddenly confused. "How will they know either way?" All sorts of ways of Mayson knowing popped into her head but none of them were appealing.

"They won't. Don't worry; I'll take care of it." Jon patted her on the shoulder awkwardly.

She didn't know what he meant but a sudden wave of exhaustion led her to realize she didn't care at the moment. Her eyes felt heavy and she couldn't stifle the yawn that brewed up from her chest. "You have a lot more explaining to do." She warned him. "In the morning. I think I need to sleep now. My thoughts are all blurry and confused."

Jon stood from the bed, sweeping one had toward the comforter and pillows. "The bed is yours."

Delylah frowned at him. "Where will you sleep? It's your bed."

Jon pointed at a rug on the floor in front of the dying fire. "I'll grab a blanket and a pillow and be set for the night. Still more comfortable than the ground on the road." He gave her a genuine grin.

"Don't be silly, there is plenty of bed for two people." Delylah began crawling across the bed to rest her head on the pillows. "No reason to sleep on the floor."

"I will not insult your honor." Jon gave a small bow of his head, walking over to the side of the bed to take a pillow.

Delylah laughed. "You claimed me this evening so isn't that exactly what everyone will think? That you're doing more than just insulting my honor?" She was drunk with sleep deprivation and the notion seemed funny to her at this point. "So you might as well sleep in the bed. Just stay on your side and no honor will be offended."

Jon stared at her a moment then sighed heavily. The temptation of a soft bed must have overcome his need to be valiant because he took of his leather tunic and crawled into bed under the covers with her. Both of them were still fully clothed but very aware that they were currently sharing a bed.

Delylah's thoughts drifted back to the last time she had saw Jon. They had shared a kiss; a touching moment that she had hoped would sway him to stay. If only he had done that, stayed with her in Winterfell, this situation would be a whole lot different. She would have most likely married him and they would be sharing a bed in a different manner.

She loved Robb with all her heart but there was still an underlying piece that cried out for Jon. She would never willingly cheat on her husband but there was a small part of her that wanted nothing more than to lose herself in Jon Snow's arms tonight. If only he hadn't left in the first place she wouldn't be in this predicament.

Tears stained her cheeks before she knew she was crying. A soft sob escaped her lips and then Jon was there, holding her, stroking her head, whispering reassuring words in her ear. She turned toward him, burying her head in his shoulder, unable to dam the emotion that was suddenly pouring out of her. He rested his lips on her forehead and traced circles on her back. They lay like that, in each other's comforting arms, until they both fell into a peaceful sleep.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N**: Oh em gee an update! As a quick explanation, I find myself generally a "cycle person" and when I wrote chapter 15 I was at the end of my writing "cycle." Then I do scrapbooking, then I do quilting, then I play my Playstation, then I go back to writing. So I am back in my writing phase! My muse has somewhat found its way back to me.

This chapter is shorter and actually a little different. The previous chapters were ALL Delylah centric except the one part where I had it in Eddard's point of view. This is a multi-POV chapter, but it's the best way to get the story out. I think I can end this particular story in another chapter or two; I know where I want to go, it's just a matter of getting there.

Thank you for all being patient and for the reviews that still trickle in. I promise to try and finish this before school starts. I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 16

Mayson Beari sat at the desk of his borrowed room, staring at the flickering candles, lost in thought. He kept replaying the conversation he just had with Jon Snow in his head. Each time he thought about it his anger grew another notch. Snow was being obstinate on purpose and it was getting under Mayson's skin. He felt like a father who'd let his child get away with something he shouldn't. Things were not adding up.

The proposed scenario of Stark's escape was plausible but hard to believe. Jon was a supporter of Mayson's cause but he tended to have moral objections to a lot of Mayson's tactics. So far it hadn't been much of a problem, a mere fly's buzzing in his ear, but now with Winterfell so close to being in his grasp he had to wonder; whose side was Jon Snow on?

The girl prisoner was a surprise until he saw her. Bright eyes, pretty face, innocent demeanor. He wouldn't be surprised to find out that Snow's whole intent for proposing this plan was to get her away from Stark. Still, that didn't help Mayson in the least. The more he thought about _that_, the angrier still he got.

He tapped his fingers in quick succession on the smooth surface of the desk. It was late, he should sleep, but his mind again kept playing out the night's events and he knew sleep would elude him this evening. He had to figure out what he was going to do with Snow and the Stark girl.

Snow had claimed her. That was a problem. Mayson had instituted the rule as a way to please the men, let them feel protective over their wives or give them a chance at a previously unobtainable woman. So far the system worked well; until now. Now it was an annoyance he'd have to maneuver around.

Snow was also correct in saying she was a good bargaining chip. She was the best bargaining chip they would ever get against Winterfell. Robb Stark would do everything in his power to secure the safe return of his wife, of that Mayson had no doubt. He could almost taste his victory over the north. He allowed himself a small smile at the thought.

The smile faded as he thought through the day's dealings for the thousandth time. Snow had to have let Stark go, there was no other way the Lord could have escaped the dungeon. Mayson's instincts were that Snow was behind it and Mayson's instincts were usually dead on. No reason to doubt them now.

"I think I've had enough of you, _Snow_." Mayson sneered at the desk. "You and your morals. I'm tired of you making me over think my every move." He stood, heading toward the bed, content in the new plan that had instantly formed in his head when he had made his decision about Jon Snow. "Time for you to disappear." Now he could sleep.

* * *

><p>Robb didn't stop the horse until he made it back to Winterfell. No one expected his return so no one was waiting for him but that didn't matter. Robb burst into the dining hall where a majority of the family and house guards were gathered.<p>

"We need to start planning." He announced to the surprised faces.

"Son," Eddard was the first to speak.

"Where's Lylah?" Jory asked, standing and walking toward the young Stark.

Robb looked at each man in turn. "Mayson Beari, leader of the rebellion, has her. _Jon_ has her."

Eddard frowned in confusion. "Jon? What does Jon have to do with this? You saw him?"

"She is captured?" Jory's eyes were wide with apprehension. More guards began to gather around them.

Robb nodded at his father. "Yes, Jon is alive. He's working with the rebellion. I didn't have time for many details but what I do know is that they have Delylah and we have to go back and get her."

"The full force of Winterfell will be at your side, Lord Stark. I can send word to the banners-" Jory started but Robb cut him off.

"No, we are not going to wage war. This is going to be a smaller battle. I prefer stealth and speed. Plus," Robb looked at his father before he finished. "I don't know that I trust all our bannermen."

"Lord Belkin betrayed you?" Eddard surmised from Robb's look. Robb merely nodded. The elder Lord Stark shook his head sadly. "Sad times," he mumbled. "Trust is hard won."

"I need fifteen, maybe twenty men. We will plan on our way there. The sooner the better; I fear they may hurt her to get back at me for my escape." Robb looked to Jory again. "Can you spare me the men?"

"Myself and my best will be ready within the hour, m'lord." Jory pulled himself up to his full height to respond.

"Good. I will be ready as well." Robb dismissed the captain of the guard. He turned worried eyes to his father. "I am scared this is all in vain. They may have hurt or killed her already."

Eddard drew his brows together in concern. "You said your brother is there with her?"

Robb nodded. "Yes, saw Jon get to her."

Eddard Stark gave his son a hopeful smile. "Then she is safe."

* * *

><p>Morning came all too early for Delylah. In the night she had rolled to her side of the bed and she found herself without many blankets covering her. Sleepily she turned over to find Jon comfortably snoozing, smothered by a heap of down comforters. He was a worse blanket hoarder than his brother.<p>

She went to reach for the blankets and force him to relinquish part of them back to her when a movement caught her eye. They weren't alone in the room. She sat up straight in bed, grateful that she still had a majority of her clothes on since she had no covers to hide any part of her. There was a man in the room, sitting on a lounge chair, watching the two of them sleep. He smiled and waggled his fingers at her when she sat up.

She didn't recognize him. He also didn't look threatening. He looked…short. He was well dressed in green wool from head to toe with gold embroidery on his sleeves. Simple, but expensive looking. Delylah frowned at him. She reached over to shove Jon a few times, hoping to wake him up. He snored louder in response.

"I think he's asleep." The man said unhelpfully.

"Who are you?" Delylah asked.

"I am Donavyn, but you may call me simply Don." The man replied with a small gesture with his hands. He wasn't attractive but he wasn't ugly either. He was just normal looking. Brown hair, average face, maybe in his thirties. It was hard to tell.

"Don, what are you doing in our bedchamber?" Delylah asked, shaking Jon again in an attempt to wake him. This time he snorted and shook his head a bit. He was taking his sweet time awakening. Some protector he was turning out to be.

"I am here for you, my Lady." Don replied, standing and moving toward the bed. He stopped at the foot and appraised the two of them with an emotionless smile. His presence was giving Delylah chills. Bad ones.

"Don, what do you want with Lylah?" Jon asked, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the heels of his palms. "She's my claim so she's my business."

"Ah, my friend that is why I am here." Don's smile never wavered. "Lord Beari challenges your claim and declares it false."

Jon was wide awake now. He glared with contempt at the man standing at the foot of the bed. "False? On what grounds?"

"On the grounds that you are a traitor to the rebellion and therefore a prisoner. As such you have no right to claim anyone." Don clapped his hands loudly once and the door burst open. Three well armed men stepped in and stood behind Don. With the chilling smile still in place, Don looked from Jon to Delylah. "Any more questions?"

**A/N:** Poor Jon, just can't catch a break. Ever. Love him! Remember to review if you have a moment- they feed the muse!


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N:** Hello! It's been a while but I have been reading the second book and it is fabulous and it inspired my muse. But I've made a promise to myself- before I can start something new I have to finish what I started. I have every intention of finishing this story if it kills me. I also went back an reread about the first 5 chapters and there is much I would change, I think my reviewers might be right about the cake and piano not fitting in the time line but then I think, it's fanfiction so I'll just go with it. It's also amusing to me that stories, movies and books alike, always start off happy and fun and end up being heartwrenching and tragic. I promise, in the end, there will be a happy ending. At some point. Just not in this chapter... anyway, hope you enjoy and it was somwhat worth the wait...

**Chapter 17**

Delylah stood, trembling, in the empty chamber. She and Jon had been pulled unceremoniously from the bed and dragged into the hallway. Where they took Jon she had no idea but she feared for him. Don had escorted her, with an iron grip on her upper arm, to the bedroom she was currently standing in. He would not answer any of her questions. He merely smiled at her in a way that sent shivers down her spine. Despite the tight hold he hand on her he was not unkind. He didn't shove or push her into the room. He simply walked her in, let go of her and with a small bow he left her. Alone.

She took in her surroundings warily. It was a bedroom similar in design to the one she had just left. There was a bed, a desk, a wardrobe and a roaring fire. The morning was still dark; the fire sent sinister shadows throughout most of the chamber. Despite being alone she felt watched, as if the shadows were keeping an eye on her. She didn't like the room one bit.

The door behind her burst open, startling her. She turned wide eyes on Mayson Beari who stormed past her without a glance. She knew better than to speak, watching him with guarded eyes. This man held her and Jon's lives in his hands, a thought that turned her blood to ice. He didn't seem happy.

Mayson sat at the desk, shuffled some papers lying there, then looked at her without raising his head. His dark eyes were hateful, even from this distance she could tell. It took all her strength to stay standing and not burst into hysterical tears. Delylah wished he would tell her what was going on. Not knowing was more terrifying than anything he could tell her.

"Jon Snow has been found guilty of treason." Mayson said finally, relaxing in his chair and looking at her with an impassive expression. He seemed indifferent to his own words. Jon was one of his generals, one of his trusted leaders. Now he was callously dismissing him as though he meant nothing.

He was still staring at her. Apparently she was meant to respond. "I've never known Jon to be anything buy loyal." She replied, unsure of what he wanted to hear from her.

Mayson chuckled at her words but there was little humor in it. "Says the wife of his brother, whom he claimed and dishonored without a second thought."

Delyah literally bit her tongue to keep from contradicting him. On one hand it would prove Jon's honor to state what really happened but a confession might be worse for both her and Jon.

Mayson waited to let her decide what to say. When it was obvious she wasn't going to disagree with him he continued. "Because of his subversion to our cause he has been thrown in the dungeons to await his fate."

She didn't want to ask but the natural pause in the conversation had the words out of her mouth before she could stop them. "What is his fate to be?"

He paused for dramatic effect, steepling his fingers as he sat forward and rested his elbows on his desk. "Death." It was one word but it was said with such pleasure that Delylah felt sick to her stomach. Mayson seemed amused by her response. A smile played on his cruel lips as he watched her struggle to keep her composure. "Your fate will be more kind, don't worry m'lady." He added.

His words rung hollow to her ears. Her head was still abuzz with coming to grips with the fact that this man was going to kill _Jon_, her Jon Snow, and there was little she could do to stop it. Her fate seemed less crucial at the moment.

Mayson continued, undisturbed by her lack of response to his comment. "Since the death of your late husband it seems you are now not only the Lady of Winterfell but the widow as well. I know there are younger Stark men to take over for your husband but if I were to marry you then it would be much easier to walk in and take the seat-"

"What?" Delylah meant it to sound like a demand but she choked on the word and it came out a strangled whisper. Mayson stopped talking and looked at her unable to hide the delight from his eyes. Her head was catching up with his words slowly. Did he just say..."You mean Robb?" She couldn't stop herself from asking.

"Indeed I do. Did Don not tell you?" Mayson looked past her to the door. Delylah turned to look over her shoulder. Donavyn was standing behind her posted by the doorway. When or how he slipped in unnoticed she couldn't tell. All she knew is he was looking at her with sympathy; false or not was unclear. Mayson continued talking, turning her attention back to him. "Don, that was not very kind of you."

"Sorry, Lord Beari. Didn't want to ruin the surprise I suppose." She heard Don reply from behind her. She couldn't bear to look at him this time. She kept her eyes focused on Mayson's face. Delylah didn't think she fully processed what Mayson told her yet. She was still numb from the announcement of Jon's impending death.

"Well, then let me have the honors." Mayson smiled and stood from behind the desk, advancing toward her slowly with his hands clasped behind his back. "My scouts are very good at what they do, Lady Stark. They are very good at finding and killing threats to my life and my rebellion. While your husband did indeed get away, thanks to Jon Snow, we knew it was only a matter of time before he came back to try and save you, his dear wife."

It took a lot of effort for Delylah to remember to breathe. The man before her terrified her. He was telling her every one of her nightmares were coming true, all in one night. She briefly wondered how someone so beautiful, so charismatic, could be so evil at heart. It seemed a cruel twist of fate. And it made him all the more horrific.

He was less than a foot away from her now. "He did come back for you, love. He came to try and rescue you and you know what he got for his trouble?" His voice was a murmur but she was mesmerized by his lips, his words. He reached up with one finger to her chin and tilted her head up toward him. "An arrow in his belly and his head on a pike."

He had wanted to look into her eyes when he said the words. Delylah didn't disappoint. She felt herself go slack and the light fade from inside her as she realized what he was saying. Robb was dead. Jon was soon to follow. Her life was taken from her by this man. She wanted to kick and scream and fight and yet at the same time she felt tired and spent. Her husband was gone. Maybe it would be better to die, to join her husband and best friend-

"I know what you're thinking little girl." Mayson still had a hold on her chin. He pinched a little more tightly to get her attention back. "You are not going to die. You are going to be my wife. If you somehow manage to end up dead all of Winterfell will suffer my wrath. Stay alive and I will go easy on the Starks and perchance let some of the younger ones live. Die or try to escape and all of Winterfell will burn to the ground. I don't need its people, I just need the castle or the castle gone."

Delylah believed him. Now it wasn't her life in the balance but Sansa, Arya, Bran, Rickon, her father; everyone at Winterfell. She had to go along with him to spare their lives. And she had trust the word of this man, Mayson Beari. Regardless if she believed him or not, what choice did she have?

As though he could read her mind a slow grin formed on his face. "Good girl. Now go, I have wedding plans to arrange." He turned and dismissed her with a wave of his hand. Before she could turn away he paused and looked back at her. "Oh yes, and a death to plan. Can't forget our guest of honor, Jon Snow."

* * *

><p>The dungeon was just as she remembered it. Cold, damp air could not be kept out by her thin dress. As quick as she could she slipped down the corridor to the one occupied cell. A dark, shaggy head of curls met her; he was staring at the floor, forearms resting on his knees. He didn't hear her approach.<p>

"Jon," she whispered, kneeling and gripping the bars with white knuckles.

His head snapped up at her voice. When his eyes met hers she felt every bit of strength leave her body. Tears began streaming down her cheeks. She wasn't sure how she kept herself from sobbing but she stayed silent.

He was on his knees across from her in an instant. He covered her hands with his. "What are you doing here?" She couldn't tell if it was disbelief or anger in his voice. She didn't care; she had to come.

"I had to see you," she whispered.

"You should be escaping if you got away from Mayson."

Delylah shook her head. "I can't leave. He's threatened our families if I go. And the city is heavily guarded." She glanced over her shoulder. "Don will figure out I've gone missing any second. I only have a few moments."

"Can you get the key? To my cell?" Jon looked hopeful.

Fresh tears began to fall as she shook her head. "The jailers are awake. I barely was able to sneak past them. I had to see you, Jon."

Jon was able to reach through the bars with one hand. He wiped away a few of her tears gently with his thumb. "It will be okay." He promised.

She shook her head again. "No." He didn't know. He _couldn't_ know the whole truth of the situation or he wouldn't be trying to comfort her. "Something terrible has happened. Something terrible is _going_ to happen." He gave her a questioning look. She was unsure if she could speak the words aloud. If she didn't say it maybe it wouldn't be true. Maybe she could keep Robb from being dead if she just didn't speak the words.

Distant, urgent voices could be heard. They were far off, maybe in the jailer's room, but there was no mistake as to what they meant. Her lack of presence in her bedroom had been discovered. Whether she wanted to or not, she had to tell Jon what happened. She leaned her face into his hand that was still on her cheek and rested her own hand on top of his. "Robb is dead, Jon. Mayson had him killed."

Jon blinked a few times. She felt his hand on her cheek go slack but he didn't drop it. "Are you sure?" Jon finally managed to ask.

Delylah nodded. "Mayson said he was caught coming back to rescue me. His men in the woods killed him. Don said it was a whole party he had with him. All the men were killed. That might mean your father. It might mean," she choked back a sob before she could get the rest out. "It might mean my father as well." Tears began running anew.

"We'll get out of this, Lylah, don't worry." Even in this moment Jon was trying to comfort her, make her feel better. They heard the door to the dungeon being thrown open. She had seconds left with him. "I'll talk to Mayson." Jon told her.

"He's going to kill you." Delylah hissed, standing as she saw men approaching from down the hallway, Don in their lead. "He has branded you a traitor for letting Robb escape. He plans to have you killed. You have to find a way out."

Jon stood too, watching the fast approaching men. "How? I'm stuck in here." He shook the bars once but they didn't even rattle.

"Something, Jon. We have to think of something." Delylah managed to get out before Donavyn was upon them.

"Lady Stark. We've been searching for you. I feared something sinister might have happened to you." Donavyn's expression was neutral but his eyes danced with anger. He looked over at Jon. "Conspiring with a traitor? That can cause you to lose your head, you know." He looked back at her with a tight smile.

"Saying goodbye to a friend." She replied hoarsely. "You know I won't leave. My family is at stake."

"Do I, now?" Don replied. "I don't deem to know the intricacies of your heart, milady. For now we will chalk this up to being lost in the complex design of the castle. If I tell Mayson about this unapproved visit he will have both your heads, ceremoniously or not." One of the guards behind him made a move to grab Delylah. Don held up a hand to stop him. "I think Lady Stark will come with me willingly. I no longer need your services. Just be sure she didn't slip Snow something to aid in his escape. I expect you to question and search him. " Don looked at Delylah pointedly. "Thoroughly."

Donavyn followed her as she made her way back to her room. She feared she had made things worse for Jon than they had been before but she couldn't feel bad about wanting to see him. She desperately hoped he came up with a way to escape before Mayson decided what to do with him.

At her room, Don held the door open for her. "You will be doubly guarded for now. We don't want you slipping away again." Don wagged a finger at her as though scolding a small child. "Now you should get some rest. You have a big day tomorrow."

Her heart sank to her toes. She knew the answer but she felt compelled to ask anyway. "What's tomorrow?" She asked hollowly.

"You're wedding day!" Don grinned. "And for your wedding present, Lord Beari has an excellent gift in mind. But we don't want you to be tired so off to bed with you."

"Gift?" She repeated, her mind reeling at the thought of any gift Mayson Beari might give her.

"You want me to spoil it for you?" Don looked eager to but Delylah didn't think she wanted him to tell her. "Well, I won't. Lord Beari would be so disappointed if I gave away his secret surprise for his lovely wife. Goodnight, milady." With a slight bow he closed the door, leaving her standing there with the echo of the slam and his words ringing in her mind.

What horrible wedding gift did Mayson have in store for her?

* * *

><p>She slept fitfully, never feeling like she got any real rest at all. The sun streaming in the window woke her for the final time. She lay in bed, staring forlornly out the window, wishing she could fly like a bird and escape into sky. She dreaded getting out of bed and facing the day.<p>

When she could stand it no more she got up from the bed. There was a dress hanging on the outside of the wardrobe; it was obviously meant for her to wear to her wedding. It was light blue with silver embroidery and encrusted with hundreds of sapphires. It was beautiful but it reminded her of the dress she wore when she wed Robb Stark. Falling to her knees she burst into tears. She wept for her lost her husband, her lost friends, her lost family. She cried until she was sure there were no more tears left in her. Feeling hollow and alone she curled up into a ball on the hard stone floor and lay there, her mind blank and numb.

She didn't know how long she lay there, arms wrapped around her knees, shivering from the cold seeping in from the stone floor. She didn't really care. All she knew was at some point Don had come in, taken one look at her, and summoned some servants to tend to her. Delylah let them dress her, set her in a chair and fix her hair. She stared at herself in the mirror but didn't really see. Her life was spinning out of her control and all she could do was numbly watch it pass by.

Dressed and prepared for the wedding, the servants had Don come in to take her to Mayson. Don held out his arm like a gentleman and Delylah, now on autopilot, took it. She allowed him to lead her to Mayson's chambers. His door was already open; they walked inside to be greeted by Lord Beari.

Mayson was dressed in what was probably his finest. His clothing was a dark blue with silver embroidery, his hair shone like polished mahogany, and he wore a rather pleasant smile on his face. He was handsome, dashing, and lordly; in other circumstances, if she hadn't known his personality, she might have be awed by his presence. As it was, she couldn't muster more than a impassive stare at him. Delylah felt dead inside.

"My dear, you must smile for our people when we get married today. They are celebrating _with_ us. It will do them no good to see you downtrodden and miserable." He walked over to her and placed his hands on both her upper arms. "You do look lovely." He leaned in and kissed her forehead.

The old Delylah, the one who grew up with Robb and Jon, the one that both boys fell in love with, would have kneed him right between the legs for laying his lips anywhere near her. This Delylah, the broken one, merely stood frozen as it happened. It was all she could do to remember to breathe. She was doing this for the Stark children, for Bran and Arya and the others. All she had to do was endure; she didn't have to like it.

"First and foremost," Mayson continued, walking away from her. "I have your wedding present." He stopped and looked over his shoulder at her. "I can't wait to see your face when you see it."


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N**: After many a revision the final chapter of the story is here. It has been a fun journey, writing this fanfiction- I have learned a lot from the mistakes I've made but in the end I'm pretty proud of what was accomplished here. And I am doubly happy because it's one of only 3 fics I've ever actually finished. With an ending. Wow!

I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I have had writing it. Drop me a review or a PM to let me know your thoughts. Thanks for your time!

**Chapter 18**

Despite being weary and numb, Delylah was astounded at the scene before her. All of the city seemed to be within the walls of the castle courtyard. Nobles she recognized and many she didn't lined the balconies of the open square. She was seated next to Mayson in the middle of them all. When he first appeared on the balcony the crowd cheered as though he were a king. The people loved him because of his cause. He would have a different reception if they knew what he really was.

There was a stage in the middle of the courtyard, complete with a beam and a hangman's noose. Someone was going to die today. Her stomach sank to her toes when she realized what was about to happen. She looked over at Mayson who was smiling at her.

"A traitor's death for your wedding present, my love." He told her, gesturing toward the elaborate set up. She hated when he called her that. There was no love between the two of them; she felt like he was tainting the word. "I will let no man stand between us and victory."

Every fiber of her being want to argue. She wanted to complain, to rant, to gouge his eyes out with her fingernails. She despised him for what he was doing to her life. The only thing that stayed her hand that was the knowledge that she'd be playing into his game. That was what he wanted; he was doing this to rile her up, to anger her, to provoke her into acting rashly. He wanted to destroy her so he could level Winterfell. His eyes told all; he wanted her to give him an excuse to slaughter everyone she knew.

She took a calming breath and turned away, choosing to remain silent. Jon was marched up out of the dungeons and through the crowd. Loud boos and jeers were tossed his direction but he walked proudly, the gait of a man knowing he has done no wrong. Delylah was unable to summon even a tear; she had already wept herself dry.

The crowd pushed in, jostling him a few times, but the guards shoved him forward. Jon's expression had been neutral, a mask to cover any feelings he might have had walking out of the cells. As he mounted the stairs to the stage his eyes were now darting around wildly and he looked nervous or perhaps scared. Delylah closed her eyes. She liked it better when he had on the brave mask. Seeing him fearful was heart wrenching.

Jon was forced to stand on a stool, the noose draped around his neck then tightened. She opened her eyes to watched him, unable to take her sapphire gaze from his face. Eventually he met her stare...and smiled. Was he trying to reassure her? Had he finally lost his mind or accepted his fate? Why would he smile at her? The grin was gone as quickly as it appeared but it had done its job of setting her on edge. Something was going to happen.

Delylah looked over at Mayson. He was watching the proceedings with glee. His eyes sparkled with anticipation as he waited for the executioner to finish his set up. It was disturbing that at one time Jon had worked for this man, looked up to him in a manner, and now Mayson was going to be _happy_ to kill him. He was a twisted and evil man indeed.

Delylah looked back to Jon. The executioner was finishing as Jon was asked if he had any last words. Delylah didn't know if she could watch what was about to happen. She wanted to look away but her eyes stayed glued to her friend's face. Jon didn't have any last words. Mayson signaled the executioner to go ahead. Jon closed his eyes. So did Delylah.

She tried to remember the last good memory of the three of them, her, Jon, and Robb. Was it at the river at their sacred place? Was it sparring for hours under the watchful eye of her father? Was it eating breakfast together before the rest of the household was up so they could get the best bits? She couldn't remember; try as she might every good memory of the three of them seemed just out of grasp.

The gasp of the crowd sounded wrong to her ears. There were no cheers, no sounds of excitement. Delylah snapped open her eyes. She'd only had them closed an instant but the scene before her was totally different. There was an arrow sticking out of the executioner's heart. The rope that attached the noose to the beam was severed and hanging over Jon's shoulder. There were guards fighting guards in the courtyard and people rushing to get out of the way. Delylah's eyes followed the trail the arrow must have took to kill the executioner.

On the wall across from the now dying executioner was a man with a hooded cape. His bow was already notched and aimed at guards below. He was unmistakable. Theon Greyjoy had killed the executioner. Delylah vaguely registered the fact that there was another hooded man with a bow and arrow on the ledge down from Greyjoy. Her eyes trailed to the men fighting on the ground. Commoners rushed away while guards battled guards. Upon closer inspection she realized that they weren't all Mayson's guardsmen. She recognized guards from her own castle of Winterfell. Rodrik Cassel, her own uncle, broke Jon's manacles with his axe and handed him a sword.

The castle was thrown into chaos. The commoners were shouting as they scattered toward the exits like rats abandoning a sinking ship. The nobles around her in the balcony were mumbling rushes of words that she couldn't make out but she felt the crowd thin around her. Her eyes were mesmerized by the fighting and screams of dying men were ringing in her head.

Leaning forward on the balcony she watched as Jon and her uncle leaped from the platform and joined the fray. The element of surprise had won Winterfell an advantage but Mayson's guards were quickly acclimating. She saw Bryton, one of her father's most trusted guards, fall after being a second too slow with a parry. Jon was in his place before she could take a breath and quickly cut the man down.

Delylah scanned the courtyard which now consisted of only soldiers fighting. It was becoming clear that Winterfell would prevail. Despite the grimness of battle she couldn't help but feel a surge of hope and happiness. They had come here for _her_; to rescue her and Jon from their fates. She looked back up to Theon and his companion on the wall. They were shooting arrows faster than she could imagine at guards on opposite walls or stragglers coming into the fight from the sides. She wondered who the second man was. Something about him was familiar.

His hood fell as he looked up her way. Delylah's stomach exploded with a thousand butterflies as she forgot to breathe; luckily she was already sitting or the shock would have sent her to her knees. She gripped the side of the balcony to keep from falling out of her chair. She would recognize those blue eyes even on a dark and stormy night. "Robb," the name left a smile on her lips as she realized what it meant to see him. Mayson had lied to her; he wasn't dead.

"Stark." Mayson growled. Robb fired an arrow in their direction which landed with a loud "thwak" in his chair, inches from Mayson's head. Delylah stood, planning on running before Mayson got his wits about him. Pressing his lips together in a chilling frown he grabbed Delylah's wrist roughly and dragged her close to him. "You're not going anywhere," he hissed in her ear.

He tried to drag her away from the balcony. The nobles had scattered and dispersed as soon as the fight began and the upper level was all but empty. All of Mayson's guards had gone downstairs to join the battle. There was no one up here to stop them.

Yet, seeing her husband alive and knowing Jon was safe gave Delylah her strength back. She felt like the old her, the her that would fight to stay alive. Using maneuvers her father would be proud of, she twisted out of his grasp and backed away. Mayson was surprised for only a second. He was quicker than she anticipated and he grabbed her arm before she could get away. "I'm not done with you," he snarled.

At that moment Mayson's back was to the entrance of the balcony. A knife appeared at Mayson's throat. "I think you are," a voice challenged. As Mayson was shoved against the nearby wall he dropped his vice grip on Delylah's arm. He was against the wall with a strong arm and a long knife at his throat, held there by Jory Cassel.

Mayson looked into his assaulter's face with a sneer. He didn't know who Jory was; all he probably saw was an older man with fire in his eyes that could overpowered easily. "What are you going to do, old man? You think _you_ can stop me from getting what I want?"

"I think I can kill you." Jory moved to slice his throat right there but a voice behind Delylah stayed his hand.

"Ah, ah, ah." Before she could turn she felt an arm snake around her neck and pull her close. Something sharp and pointy dug into her side, aimed up under her ribs. "You may want to reconsider." Though she couldn't see him she recognized the slimy voice. Donavyn. The way he had a hold of her she couldn't struggle to get away.

Her father turned desperate eyes on her. She could tell he wanted nothing more than to kill Mayson, the man who was trying to take his daughter away, but her life was now in the balance. Still he didn't want to let go of his prisoner. Indecision danced in his eyes. She felt the sharp point pierce her skin as the knife was thrust upward a bit more. "I'm waiting." Don reminded Jory. "And I'm not patient. Let him go."

In that moment Jory made a decision. Delylah saw it the instant it came into his head and read it in eyes. At the same moment she and her father moved in sync. She lurched to the side, dragging all of her body weight in the opposite direction of the knife, loosening Donavyn's hold for a single moment. In that single moment Jory smashed into Don with full momentum and the two crashed to the ground.

Delylah made to sit up from the floor, clutching her side and hearing her father and Don struggle behind her on the ground. She looked up to find Mayson glaring at her with wrath, his sword unsheathed, and death on his mind. He took a few steps toward her, raising the sword high in a swing that would take her head from her shoulders. She was defenseless and trapped. Mayson Beari was about to kill her.

She closed her eyes, praying that she would be strong and not scared in this moment, the moment of her death. She heard the downswing of the sword, a not so distance "woosh" of steel through air. Yet, instead of being killed she heard the rough clang of steel meeting steel. Her eyes snapped open to see a familiar sword holding Mayson's at bay.

"Stark." Mayson growled the name for the second time that day. He pushed away from Robb and stood back, his sword at the ready. "My scouts told me you were dead."

Robb didn't look at Delylah. She didn't want to be a distraction so she scrambled backward away from the fight that was inevitably about to happen. "Your scouts were mistaken." Robb replied.

Mayson's lips curled into a ominous smile. "No matter. Dead in the woods or dead in this castle, dead is dead. I am going to kill you Robb Stark, with pleasure." Mayson's eyes flicked over to Delylah then back to his foe. "Then I shall do as I please with your pretty little wife."

He was trying to rile Robb up, to make him angry so he would make a mistake. Delylah admired her husband's calm under pressure as he didn't take the bait. "You will not lay a finger on my wife ever again." Robb promised with deadly certainty.

The fight began in the blink of an eye. Robb began with a thrust that was easily countered by Mayson. They pivoted around each other as their swords collided together in small attempts to find each other's weaknesses. Delylah had to stand and back away more. She had no weapon, nothing with which to defend herself or help. She looked over to her father and Donavyn who were also in a heated battle.

Steel rang against steel on both sides of her. She wanted nothing more than to find a sword and join in but she was helplessly cornered and able only to watch as her father and husband battled for their lives. Donavyn was not a skilled swordsman and Jory, with years of experience, overpowered him quickly and somewhat easily. Her father didn't know that Don was also a weasel of a man and was surprised when he won the duel only to find himself blinking on the floor with a cut to the face and white powder smoking around his neck.

Delylah had seen the tricky man deceive her father but she'd been unable to stop it. She was at Jory's side an instant later but Donavyn was already gone, disappeared into the halls of the castle. She searched her father for any other injuries beyond the scratch on his face.

"I'm alright, Lylah." He finally told her, grabbing her hands to stop her from fretting. "I don't know how he got away."

"He's a spiteful cheat with magic and tricks." Delylah told him. "The guards will catch him. I don't know how he could escape the castle." She wasn't sure about that but she wanted to reassure her father.

A cry of pain caught both their attention and they turned to see where Robb and Mayson were still dueling. Mayson was a fair swordsman but Robb was clearly superior. Mayson was obviously tiring though the cry they heard had been Robb's. Somehow Mayson had found a small opening and slashed Robb's left arm. It was a small wound but a wound all the same.

Mayson was chuckling, calling Robb weak and taunting him with the things he would do to Robb's family after he killed him. Robb was doing a good job of keeping his cool but only barely. He had a heated anger that Delylah knew better than to provoke. Good thing Mayson didn't know this. He threw another taunt about Delylah and Robb came at him with a vengeance.

Mayson could barely deflect the blows. One after another they came, a flurry of flashing steel; high then low, right then left, then left again. Robb made it through Mayson's defenses many times but with only tiny successes. Mayson was bleeding but he was still alive. His face was less cocky now, more fearful and weary. With a final strike, Robb knocked Mayson's sword aside and had the tip of his sword at Mayson's neck.

"I yield!" Mayson cried, his sword clattering to the ground. There was panic in his eyes as he stared at Robb Stark, the man whose life he had tried to destroy. What cause would Robb have to spare him?

Robb seemed to be thinking the same thing. Delylah watched with her father as Robb stood there, lost in the debate in his head. After a few dreadful minutes that felt like years, Robb lowered his sword reluctantly. Honor had won out. "I accept." He stood up to his full height, looking down at his defeated opponent. "You're not worth it," he added in a heavy tone.

Jon, along with other Winterfell guards, had appeared at the door earlier but Delylah only just noticed them. They moved forward to take Mayson into custody. Robb turned his back on him to walk toward her and her father. Delylah saw what was about to happen before anyone else. It happened so fast should couldn't even speak to warn her husband, she could only watch with wide, astonished eyes.

Mayson grabbed his sword and charged at Robb. He did it silently, without warning. Before he could get to his prey, Jon, with the instincts of a wolf, was there between Robb and Mayson, sword in hand. Between the force Jon gave and Mayson's momentum forward, his sword went all the way through Mayson's gut; in one side and out the other. Mayson's own sword clattered to the ground for a second time. His hands clutched at Jon's sleeves as he fell, dying slowly. Jon watched as life slid away from Mayson Beari slowly and painfully. Jon didn't look regretful.

Robb looked from Mayson's prone form to Jon standing beside him. "I've missed that." Robb finally broke the silence.

"Missed what?" Jon asked.

"You protecting my back." Robb grinned at his brother, pulling him into a hug. "I am glad we got here in time." He added.

"I'm glad I got _here_ in time." Jon pointed at Mayson's body with his sword. "World wouldn't be quite right without you to boss it around."

"I owe you my life." Robb replied in all seriousness.

"I'm sure you'll pay me back someday." Jon replied.

"For more than just this." Robb looked from Mayson over to Delylah who was still kneeling by her father. She stood when he looked at her. Robb looked back at Jon. "You kept her safe."

"Always." Jon looked over to Delylah with an awkward smile. "Though she doesn't make it easy." He added quietly.

"That's why we love her." Robb replied before walking over and sweeping Delylah up into a bear hug. Right then she didn't care about his words, only that she was in his arms. She was safe again.

* * *

><p>It was a few days before everyone was back in Winterfell. Belkin and other nobles that had supported the rebellion were being escorted by a large consort to King's Landing for sentencing under Ned Stark's recommendation. Robb would have them all hanged for treason and kidnapping but the elder Lord Stark warned against rash actions that could have dire consequences later. Robb finally accented to let the king dole out punishment. It was well known that the king did like to keep the heads of traitors on their shoulders.<p>

Delylah found delight in every day after the rescue. Living without her husband made her cherish him even more than before, if that were possible. She hoped dearly that she'd never have to live through such a scare again. Losing Robb then nearly losing Jon had torn at her soul.

Jon decided to stay around instead of joining the Black Brothers. Though he knew he would have to endure Catelyn Stark's scorn his time away had shown him that he needed his friends, people he could trust, his family, more than anything else. Jory began to groom him to be captain of the guard in his place, a job he found he quite liked despite himself.

It had been ages since they sat by the river in their special spot. So much had happened, so much growing up and horrific sadness, that Delylah wondered if the three of them would ever be able to just sit and talk and laugh like they had before. She decided she wanted to see, she wanted to know if their friendship could stand this test of time and strain.

Robb laid out the blanket. Jon set down the picnic basket. Delylah sat cross legged, fluffing out her skirt. "My clothes are too fancy for this anymore." She complained.

"At least it's not raining and muddy." Robb pointed out, digging in the basket for apples. He found them and tossed one each to Jon then Delylah.

"I think I'd prefer the mud," Delylah replied, thinking about the rainy kiss with Jon then the almost muddy kiss in this exact spot with Robb. It seemed so long ago but really it had only been a year. They crunched on their apples in silence for a few long minutes.

"Do you think we'll ever get it back?" Jon finally broke the quiet with a question.

"Get what back?" Robb asked curiously.

"The innocence." Jon replied, looking toward the river. Delylah knew what he meant. All the memories here were pure, full of joy, laughter, mischievous youth; a time before the three kids knew about the unkindness of the world beyond Winterfell. They were memories of children. Now they were adults.

"It's all part of growing up," Robb shrugged, though he seemed sad at his own words. "Can't be helped."

"Doesn't mean we have to be old, grumpy people like our fathers." Delylah insisted. "Just because we've grown up doesn't mean we stop enjoying life."

"So you still want to push each other into mud puddles and make Robb eat worms?" Jon grinned mischievously at her.

"Hey I never ate-" Robb protested.

"No," Delylah stopped the argument before it could begin with her own grin. "But I do think I can still best you in a duel."

"Not in that dress you can't." Jon shook his head, pointing at her clothes.

"Is that a challenge ser Snow?" Her eyebrow twitched up as she asked.

"You willing to see?" Jon asked, standing from the blanket. "You know I have the swords on my horse."

"Wait, wait, wait. You are going to duel my wife?" Robb asked. "I don't think my honor can let you do that."

"Your honor can step aside and let your wife fight her own battles." Delylah leaned over and kissed him to stop any other silly protest he might have before calling out, "Jon, swords!"


End file.
